Women

Women

In quiet corners of a bustling city,
She walks—her steps a rhythm of resolve,
A tapestry woven from courage and compassion,
Each thread a story, each hue a hope.

She laughs like summer rain on cobblestones,
Soft yet insistent, washing dust away,
Her eyes hold galaxies of untold dreams,
Reflecting skies that dare her to rise.

From kitchen tables to boardroom halls,
From nursery lullabies to protest chants,
She nurtures, creates, leads, and heals,
Turning ordinary moments into legend.

Her strength is not a loud proclamation,
But the steady pulse beneath the surface,
A quiet fire that warms the night,
Guiding those who wander lost and cold.

So here's to the women—mothers, sisters, friends—
Whose love builds bridges where none existed,
Whose wisdom lights the path ahead,
And whose spirit, unyielding, shapes our world.