In the quiet of the night, she whispers dreams,
Sewing hope into the fabric of tomorrow,
Her hands, though weary, never cease,
Crafting a world where her children can rise.

Through the storms of doubt and fear, she stands,
A beacon of light in the darkest hours,
Her heart, a fortress of enduring grace,
Sheltering souls with unwavering power.

With every tear and every smile, she weaves,
The unseen threads of love that bind,
Her spirit, a melody of endless devotion,
Singing lullabies of comfort and peace.

In her eyes, the universe unfolds,
A tapestry of dreams and endless skies,
For being a mother is to embrace the stars,
And guide them gently into the dawn.