The Bold Murmurs

Often at dawn, foreheads are caressed 

Moist imprints pious and blessed.

Cherubs are cuddled ,brought back to life

Celestial soul smiling to strive.

Simmering stew or it's a coffee brew,

Aromas from kitchen and the deadlines new ,

Holy warrior with gadgets and spices 

Impending assignments of homework and grinding, 

Workout sessions to briefing presentations 

That saintly figure , acknowledges her presence. 

Lullabies and sleepless nights 

Never diminishes her motherly might 

Familial ethos and coded conduct 

The only relics she harbingers 

Mother o mother! A species divine

Who flows with murmurs and never whine.