“The Heart of a Mother”

She wakes before the morning light, With tired eyes yet spirit bright. A whisper in her soul so clear— “This is sacred, holy work, My dear.”

She holds the world with gentle hands, And builds her home with love’s commands. She dries the tears, she calms the fears, She prays with hope across the years.

Her strength is not in what is seen, But in the quiet in-between. The sleepless nights, the whispered prayers, The constant love that always cares.

She teaches truth not just in word, But in each action gently stirred. She plants the seeds of grace and peace, And trusts that God will bring increase.

She treasures moments, guards the flame, Remembers every child by name. And though the world may miss her light, Heaven sees her daily fight.

Her heart reflects the Father's face— A mirror of His love and grace. And though her hands may shake, grow worn, They cradle souls and carry storms.

So, bless the heart that mothers give, A holy way to love and live. For in her strength and tender art, God writes His love on every heart.