If I have to scale the heights she reaches,
I’d be a midding being near her accomplishments,
She is the mountain, I the knoll,
She is the Trailblazer.
If I have to master the way she preaches,
Id be the faint sound to her unabated delivery,
She is the seasoned, I the callow,
She is the Maven.
If I have to learn how she converses,
I’d go speechless to her graceful talks,
She is the raconteur, I the listener,
She is the Language.
If I have to be trained like how she cares,
I’d be humbled of her considerate heart,
She is the potter, I the clay,
She is the Caretaker.
She is mountain, I the knoll,
She is the Seasoned, I the callow,
She is the Raconteur, I the listener
She is the potter, I the clay,
She is – My mother.