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In the quiet dawn, he rose each day,
A silent hero, in his humble way.
With roughened hands and steady grace,
He built our dreams, he held our place.
He stayed hungry to feed my needs,
With silent love and wordless deeds.
Barefoot he walked through storm and heat,
So I could stand on steady feet.
In shabby clothes, he bore his pride,
While dressing me in warmth and stride.
His coat was torn, his plate was bare,
Yet I had all, with none to spare.
He hid his pain behind a smile,
And carried joy across each mile.
No throne or crown, yet strong and true,
He ruled our world from out of view.
His feet knew thorns, his hands knew red,
From tireless work to keep us fed.
He bowed his head to lift me high,
He gave me wings so I could fly.
A doctor, teacher, guard, and guide,
His quiet strength would never slide.
An anchor when the wild winds blew,
A shield from all life ever threw.
He asked for nothing, gave me all,
His greatness found in things so small.
In every tear he never cried,
His boundless love and silent pride.
So on this day, with heart sincere,
I honor you, who brought me here.
A father’s love, both deep and wide,
A mountain’s strength, a river’s tide.
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