Where Her Love Lives
Soft as morning light,
She moves through the world with quiet grace—
Leaving warmth in every soul she touches,
As if love itself had taken human form.
I am like a garden in open ground,
Blessed by the hush of hidden rain.
A blossom unfolding in silent majesty,
Nurtured by the sacred pulse of her care.
I am like a tree, unwavering and tall,
Rooted in the quiet shelter of her embrace.
A bird gliding across unseen skies,
Lifted by the weightless wisdom of her words.
I am the sun behind a veil of dusk,
Still burning gently through the softest night.
The hush of her voice,
The grace in her hands,
Have shaped me like a timeless stone—
Unbroken by the winds that pass.
She is the breath beneath my strength,
The rhythm in my silence,
The compass within my soul.
Even when shadows fall and silence grows long,
I hear her still—
In every choice for good,
In every step I take.
She is with me... always.
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Author's Note:
This poem is a reflection of the quiet strength my mother instilled in me. Even when I find myself alone, her voice lives on in my heart—reminding me to be kind, to be strong, and to always choose what is good. Her love is the foundation of who I am, and her words continue to guide me through every step I take. Though we may be apart, I carry her with me always.
— For my mother, with endless gratitude.
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