There is no single name for a woman
because she embodies so many,
those she inherited,
those imposed on her,
those she chose in silence
when no one was looking.
She has walked since ancient times
with a strength she does not flaunt,
a patience that sustains the world
without demanding an explanation.
Within her lie wounds and hopes.
She is the word that opens paths
and the gesture that saves without a sound.
I have seen her build homes,
cherish memories, become water
when life calls for rest,
and defend life with tenderness,
without yielding.
I have also seen her weary,
yet, even so, always standing,
as if within her
lay an ancient pact
with dignity.