Dedicated to woman.

Her Spirit

Every breath has its cause to exist.
Every flower, her blooming beauty to build ...

Every sunset has its origin in life,
Where death and darkness once reigned... she has hope.
No might nor sweat nor toil,
Like small seed fighting the soil,
To break out and be free.

The sun so soft yet great in splendor, in her hearts strength,
Warmth and might contains her inevitable gentle power.

Like power of sun in the spirit of her being...
She reflects true greatness in her piercing gaze.
Effortless the weight of life's challenges,
but wait...it seems.

Her loveliness and exquisiteness,

As she labors and caries life within,

Always buoyant and shielding ready to give...

So soft yet great in splendor...
Warmth and might contains her inevitable gentle power.

She is free,

The life to choose...

The choice is hers,

"My spirit, my hour!"