In the shadowed cradle of creation,
Lies a force of adoration,
A love profound, its tender grasp,
The whispered breath of life's first gasp.
A mother's heart, so full, complete,
Nurtures life, with love replete,
Her warmth and care, a soothing balm,
In stormy seas, she is the calm.
Yet in the dark, a force does linger,
Gently coiled around her finger,
The twisted strings of love and power,
Entwined as one, both sweet and sour.
A mother's love, unyielding, strong,
Can shape the young, both right and wrong,
Her touch, her voice, her gentle stare,
A double-edged sword, a love so rare.
With every morsel of her being,
She seeks to guide, protect, and glean,
But oftentimes, the purest love,
Becomes the shackle, the weighted glove.
For in the depths of night, it shows,
A love that blooms, yet overthrows,
The silent dance of shadows cast,
A mother's love, both first and last.
Collaboration with @LeafSwan
