She carved with love, she carved with care,
With the softest hands and whispered prayer.
Each subtle touch, each measured art,
Was shaped from pieces of her heart.
“I want for you what I never knew,
Wide open skies and a colourful view.
The strength to stand, the choice to roam,
To shape your dreams and call them home.”
The daughter heard, yet longed to fly,
To test her wings in the open sky.
For every bird, however dear,
Must fly from the nest it holds most near.
The mother watched with anxious eyes,
Remembering her own roads and old goodbyes.
She dreaded the storms, the hidden bends,
The quiet wounds that living sends.
The daughter said, “Believe in me,
The woman that you helped me be.
Your love has made my soul much strong,
Your lessons will guide me all along.”
The mother smiled through silent tears,
And saw beyond her countless fears.
For what is love, if not grace,
To let another find their place?
And what is youth, if not the art
Of carrying home within your heart?
So be her daughter, be her friend,
Before the seasons reach their end.
And while the moments still allow,
Stand for each other, starting now.
Let guidance walk with freedom’s hand,
Let trust and tenderness both stand.
Loosen up the rules, that you have made,
Live each day creating memories that never fade.
The sculptor’s gift was never stone,
Nor keeping what she called her own.
It was to nurture a soul so bright
That body and mind could not keep her away, from walking into the light.
And the daughter’s gift, before goodbye,
Is not to cling, nor drift, nor fly,
But to turn around and let her see:
“The strength you wished for lives in me.”
Simi
Simi says... 