Mom

In fields of gold, beneath the sun’s gentle gaze,A mother’s love, in myriad ways,Through whispers of leaves, not heard, but felt,In sunflower eyes, where warmth does melt.Tiny hands, soil-kissed, reach for the sky,Seeds of tomorrow, in the ground they lie,Growth mirrors life, in ups and downs,In every smile, and in each frown.Sunflowers tall, stand proud…