Beneath Her Quiet Hands by Aileen D. Tacbalan

She wakes to the sun, before it can rise.

Bones too tired to stretch, eyes drooping.

Hushed kettle hums, dim glowing fire,

Teary eyed, dreams still bright just.

– 

For the world, lay at her back.

A steady push and unrelenting track,

From the mat to the hoe of feet,

To hard worn lives.

–

Wraps her tears in quiet rain,

Wears her smile to hide the hurt,

When the storms have ripped her skies.

Hopefully a handful of flames will keep her heart warm enough.

–

Her fingers ache, her pace slows,

But in her heart, her spirit grows.

For each wound, every restless night,

Has shaped her strength, her will to fight.

–

And though the path is long and steep,

She sings her own irrepressible song.

For in her heart the truth stays,

A woman’s soul outlives the chains.