To be

the design of our future,

humble in hand our tears

in your heart do land

whilst the world around


rattles on,

like a mobile above my eyes,

you do soothe me



We are

a society driven by need

to celebrate, honor the beauty


bestows on our world,

her constant companion

of love, of heart,

a passionate embrace

a tear swept in a lonely adolescent

rite of passage,

her own tear

when soon we depart her grasp.


There is

the reality for some,

the beauty of woman

whom without the hand of God

are left without child,

yet know,

without our love from everyone

all of her celebratory delight,

we would lose all sense of nature,

if left to individuals alone.

So we do celebrate you,

mother of our soul,

our lives,

those you will nurture

by instinct,

whether sown or known.



in all respects of love

we do cherish your being

without your hand

to touch our tears

we are sullen and grave,

yet today we are delightful

in knowledge of your reality.



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