She bends dreams to her will
And leads storms in the direction of her hair strands.
Her words belong to the wise,
Century-old whitebeard wizard
And one-year old child,
Ready to explore the world
With curiosity and admiration
In their eyes for every living being.
She's a skilled potion master
Who turns her pain
Into delicious and healing potions.
Children come to her for comfort and warmth,
And older people like to be in her presence
And tell her their life stories.
Animals seak her hand for a gentle
And friendly pet.
She's a Snow White of the modern world.
She loves and gives her heart
Selflessly,
Even though she knows
It's made of glass.
Her heart gets broken often,
But she gets on her two feet quickly
And creates a glass figurine out of it.
She is a woman.
We all know her.
I dreamt of her once.
It was the most enchanting dream,
I didn't want to wake up from.
She's each one of us.
She's the very best of me.
And she's you too.