The Cradle’s Might
They watch the hand that softly sways,
The gentle rhythm of the early days,
A mother humming, low and sweet,
Rocking tiny, helpless feet.
They see but comfort, balm, and grace,
A tender vigil in this sheltered place,
And judge the strength that soothes and tends,
As something lesser, where power ends.
But oh, the strength that holds that life,
That calms the wail and ends the strife,
That patience carved from bone and soul,
To make the fragile spirit whole.
The hand that wipes the tearful eye,
And teaches the small heart to fly,
So never judge the gentle art,
The hand that holds a beating heart;
For in that motion, soft and slow,
The seeds of revolution grow.
The mind she shapes, the will she molds,
The future that her arm enfolds,
The hand that rocks the tiny boat,
Is the same hand that makes the world take note.
She doesn’t merely soothe the child,
She sets a force upon the wild.
The hand that rocks the crib this hour,
Has all the power to shake the tower.
Explanation
This poem, titled “The Cradle’s Might” (“Kuasa Buaian“), is a defense and celebration of a mother’s often-underestimated power. It directly challenges the idea that a mother’s gentle act of rocking a baby is a small, insignificant thing that cannot influence the world. It uses the traditional image of a mother rocking a cradle to explore a much deeper theme: the enormous, world-changing impact of motherhood.
Question for you
Do you think ‘mother’ has the power to change the world?
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