The power of her journey
The Constant Heart A daughter born,
a fragile bud,
A father's pride,
A mother's flood Of hope
And dreams in tiny hands,
She learned to crawl on sacred lands.
Her value isn't found in gold,
But in the stories to be told—
A tender spirit,
wild and free,
A sapling for the family tree.
The sister bond,
A woven thread,
Through whispered secrets,
words unsaid.
A shared defense against the world,
A banner of a soul unfurled.
Two hearts that know each other's fears,
A steady rock through fleeting years,
A laugh, a fight, a tearful grace,
Finding home in a familiar face.
A girlfriend's touch,
A sudden spark,
Igniting fires in the dark.
A dance of words, a shy embrace,
A nervous tremor in a space
Where two souls find a brand new song,
And feel for the first time they belong.
A fragile promise,
softly made,
In sunlight parks and twilight shade.
The bride in white, a sacred vow,
A new beginning, here and now.
The gentle curve of life she bears,
A swelling love beyond all cares.
Through morning sickness, weary days,
She walks in quiet, hopeful haze,
A vessel strong, a world contained,
For life's first gentle touch is gained.
A mother's love,
a boundless sea,
She gave up "I" for "you" and "we."
Her waking hours, her sleep she lends,
A life that starts,
a journey ends Of self-concern,
replaced by grace,
To give her child a better place.
She is the shield, the guiding light,
A fierce and tender, endless might.
And then a grandma, silver-haired,
A patient love, beyond compared.
The storyteller, wise and slow,
Who watches little futures grow.
She holds the past in knowing eyes,
And sees a future she can't rise To walk herself,
but in her heart,
She plays the most important part.
The Power of Her Journey
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