08/03/2026
Within a woman lives an ancient force,
a memory gentle and deep, almost infinite.
It is not born from noise nor from war,
but from the secret pulse of the earth.
She is the breeze that soothes, the root that holds,
the life that returns even when the world resists it.
A serene gaze, an awakened intuition,
the wise and invisible architecture of life.
Yet there were times of clumsy blindness,
of hollow pride and rigid words.
Hands of ignorance, fearful of her light,
tried to imprison her simple fire.
They called her fragile so they would not see her strength,
dressed her in silence, pushed her away from her destiny.
For there are small minds, filled with fear,
that mistake tenderness for lack of courage.
And still, her essence neither dies nor fades.
It simply waits patiently behind the walls.
For what is truly deep cannot be extinguished—
it only learns in the shadows how to ignite again.
Woman is cycle, tide and seed,
a light reborn when the dawn begins to breathe.
And when history attempts to forget her,
life itself remembers her name.
For her power does not shout — it blossoms.
It does not impose — it transforms.
It does not dominate…
yet it endures.
“For the female strength that has shaped the world.”
(Iternational Women’s Day)
