Ode to a mother and mentor

We thank the guiding winds
And rejoice the nights to come
For days which once were dim
Are now only left for some.
 
And stars had yield to beauty;
Perceived we that great spectrum.
So now embedded in memory:
Beauty of incontestable Hera.
 
She, the gardener as the sun;
Thy buds bloom in the winter  
And glad to be one though undone,
I, as foliage, am made by thee greener.
 
Mine own gratitude truly vast
And being a dreamer, it is infinite.
For thy importance being a mast;
Setting sail to us into the limitless.
 
 
(Happy birthday to my teacher. She's the greatest!)