When night descends and cries break through the dark,
A mother bends to gather up her child,
In arms she holds the grief that leaves its mark,
With tender love, the wild heart reconciled.
Her whispers soothe the shadows in their flight,
Each coo a balm for worries long confined.
In cradled calm, she finds a primal light,
The pain transformed, a promise left behind.
She learns to cradle what she cannot flee,
As spirit bends to meet her silent woe;
In every tear, the depths of her will see,
A truth that blooms where once despair would grow.
To face the ache, embrace it—thus we find,
That in our suffering, our souls aligned.