In the quiet of the morning light,
They rise with dreams of our future bright,
With hands that work and hearts that care,
They weave the love we each must wear.

Their whispers guide us through the night,
With gentle words, they set us right,
Like trees that bend with every storm,
To keep us safe and keep us warm.

In every step, their shadows fall,
A silent force that stands so tall,
Their hopes are sewn into our seams,
As we embark on paths of dreams.

The years may steal their youthful grace,
But never dim their loving face,
For parents, in their silent way,
Are the sun that lights our day.