You are the concealed
hand
that helps us cross
the broken bridge;
You are the concealed chalk
that fills our black lives
full of white.
Your warm, cozy arms –
the palliative spot for a
wounded soul.
You are the sunlight blending
through the curtains
lighting up our lives.
You are the fresh lotus that
fills our flavourless lives
with essence.

To decipher you,
is problematic;
how does your instinct
decipher us?

You are a blessing,
only a few are blessed with.
You are the life that leads me
through the dark tunnel
of life.

You are a lady: like no other.
You are my everything.
You are MOM!