Mother Tongue

In the cradle of my earliest dawn,

A language whispered, tender and drawn,

A mother tongue in soft twilight.

Of lullabies and guiding hands,

In every word, a legacy,

A bridge from past to what will be.

Its rhythm flows like childhood’s stream,

A melody of roots so deep,

Where echoes of the ancestors sleep.

This mother tongue will never end,

For in its cadence, heartbeats hum,

A timeless song where I am from.

In every phrase, a world reborn,

In mother’s tongue, my soul adorned.