Mother
The primal word I spoke at life's start,
Not golden arches, but love's universal art.
'Ma' echoes in cultures diverse,
Symbolizing eternal motherhood, a cosmic verse.
In her embrace, warmth I'd find,
Crying, my sole skill, in infancy confined.
Rocking motions, lulling me to rest,
Cries for heavenly attention, a baby's quest.
Bad or good, day's play or lessons sought,
In her eyes, the best boy I was thought.
Discipline met with the utmost grace,
Crafting a future, a bright, destined space.
Stupid actions met with her concern,
Anger transformed, in sermons, I'd discern.
Rage one moment, forgiveness next,
Guidance and wisdom, her lifelong text.
Pain of daily setbacks mirrored in her eyes,
Tears reflecting my life's lows and highs.
Sympathy as balm for wounds unseen,
Comforting, empathizing, a mother's serene sheen.
For unselfish love, a constant well,
Tenderness and goodness in heart's swell.
An endless stream of care, a smile so bright,
In dreams, she lingers, a beacon of light.
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