Mothers Poem by oio ZIGA

We trace our origin to the source - Mothers, sacred vessels of the force.
We inherit our ways, our tongue, our fire,
From ancient wombs that never tire.

O thou goddess who bringeth life,
We bow to thee - mother, nurturer, wife.
The great incubator of our first dawn,
Cradling us gently till we are born.

The giver of our first soft sigh,
Of kindest eyes that never lie.
The first smile we meet, pure and true,
The warmest arms that carried us through.

From womb to world, you stayed so near,
Guiding each step, calming each fear.
Moulding us gently with love as the thread,
Raising custodians for the path you tread.

But one day, silent, you take your leave,
A presence felt in every breath we breathe.
Never again to be seen, but still so near,
In memory's echo, forever clear.

Oh mother, your spirit shall never part,
For you live on, etched in my heart.
Until the day I too must go,
To where all rivers of love must flow.