The Epitome of Mothers

Whence dost kindness of the absolute highest degree, shower those with no empathetic quality

What cometh from cursing at the universe, for it dost naught but provide: light, air and nourishment

Whence harder to reconcile then to be averse

When the universe plagues us with tsunamis and earthquakes, we must not fret because tomorrow is a new day

Do not yell at the blind for not understanding the principles of colour

Do not detest the weather for making it rain

Everyone and everything has a purpose

Some may lack skills

Some may seem perfect

The universe is an enigma

It has many assets to which we benefit

It is often treated with carelessness

But it continues to support us regardless

It is beautiful and wondrous

It gives us protection and knowledge

My protector

My mother

My universe





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