In the hush between grievance and gathering,
The Mothers beheld the shaping of law—
Threads drawn from dust and desire,
Spun to hold the weight of wrong and right.

Each circle, born of place and people,
Wove its own design of justice,
A pattern stitched with memory and need.

Where silence lived in statutes,
Where judgment stood alone,
The Mothers stirred not the world, but the soul—
A hush, a tilt, a breath upon the choosing hand.

Yet most they bless the circles that do not sleep—
That soften edges dulled by time,
That lift the lowly and temper power,
That let fairness grow as rivers do—
Turning, widening, reaching toward the whole.

So the Mothers whisper:
Let law be alive, let mercy guide its course.
For in the tending of justice with care and courage,
The sacred thread is renewed.

Explanation

The Mothers honor each group’s right to make its own laws, shaped by local needs and traditions. When laws are unclear, they sometimes guide the hearts of those who judge or create new rules. But they are most pleased when justice is allowed to grow and change. Fairness should improve over time. Power should be watched carefully. Mercy should be part of judgment. Justice should not stay frozen, but move with the world.