Like an octopus beneath the waves,
a mother moves in fluid grace,
with many arms to work and care,
she tends to needs from everywhere.

Her hands, like limbs that stretch and sway,
find tasks anew with each new day—
she reaches far, she holds in close,
the strength and calm we need the most.

Eight arms that curl, wrap, and protect,
with love that none would dare neglect;
she juggles tasks that intertwine,
one slipping free, another’s fine.

With quiet might, her touch surrounds,
and just like currents’ gentle bounds,
she gathers all in waves of love,
her heart as vast as skies above.

A multitasking marvel, she—
like ocean’s grace, like mystery.
An octopus, a mother’s care,
with endless reach, she’s always there.

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