To all my Queens, Sophia-capacitated,
Wise by nature, not fabricated.
In a world that profits when we’re separated,
May our remembering leave it frustrated.

To the women who feel more than they’re told they should,
Who sense the hidden currents beneath “good.”
Who know that softness was never weak —
Just power the loud forgot how to speak.

To the mothers of bodies,
And the mothers of ideas,
To the keepers of warmth
And the dissolvers of fears.

To the sisters who laugh loud,
Who cry when it’s needed,
Who plant quiet seeds
Long before they’re believed in.

They told us competition was the throne to pursue,
But queens recognise queens — that’s the truer view.
A crown does not tilt when another one rises;
A kingdom grows wider, richer in prizes.

Sophia lives in the spaces between —
In patience, in presence, in what’s rarely seen.
Not domination, not proving, not noise —
But the ancient intelligence guiding our choices.

So today isn’t about flowers alone,
Or hashtags briefly overthrown.
It’s about remembering what we’ve always been:
Builders of worlds, visible and unseen.

To every woman still finding her voice,
To every woman reclaiming her choice —
May you feel the quiet truth within:

You were never late.
You were never small.
You were always a Queen.

And Queens recognise Queens.

Happy Women’s Day.