Mother of Glory, Woman of Mountains and Fire
Автор: sama
Загружено: 2025-12-17
Просмотров: 326
After a long day, as the sun dips behind the mountains,
Shaukat’s mother walks slowly through the snow with a basket full of firewood on her shoulder.
Her steps are not light – each step carries the weight of years of suffering.
Her hands, tired and cracked, still smell of the earth.
But there is a light in her eyes…
A light that shines with the unquenchable love of a mother.
She does not bring firewood, she brings warmth – the warmth of the heart, the warmth of life.
When she enters the house, the steam of her breath spreads in the air and the children waiting in the corner of the room say:
“Mom, aren’t you cold?”
She smiles… a smile of belief, of a feminine silence whose name has not been mentioned in any book for centuries,
But the houses are still lit by her hands.
Shaukat's mother is the voice of the wind, the support of the house.
She piles the firewood in the corner of the oven,
And in the fire that roars,
You can see the way of life;
Hard, but warm...
Silent, but bright.
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