The Sun at Home

A small dedication to 

all the mothers out there!

“The Sun at Home”

She hums while making tea,

like her joy bubbles with the steam.

The kind of music that makes a house

feel like more than walls.

Her eyes catch everything—

the missing sock,

the extra spoon,

the sadness behind my “I’m fine.”

But she never panics.

She just knows.

There’s something in the way she walks—

confident, soft,

like even the floor listens when she moves.

She smells like soap and sunlight,

and when she laughs,

you feel it

right in the middle of your chest—

like warmth you didn’t know you needed.

She’s both the celebration and the reason for it.

Proof that love doesn’t need to be loud

to be unforgettable.

If home had a face,

it would be hers.

If joy had a name,

it would echo her smile.

-Himzy

Hopefully you enjoyed reading!

Thank you for your precious time:)