Rocking my baby to the 52nd Infantry Brigade
Rocking my baby to Kingdom Come
I leave the cradle near the babysnatchers
To feast my eyes upon the white African violets

I feed my baby primula
To appease the Goddess
Or I feed my baby holly
To ascertain his ether

Rocking my baby to the High Priestess
Rocking my baby to the Wishing Well
I take the cradle and place it near the hole
And blow upon the forget-me-nots and pray for understanding

I remain obsequious in the presence of the father
Must I always be the mother? Must I always need a brother?
This breathing mask feels tighter with each breath

High amongst all of the fairies and Gods
I lift my hands up high and cry for relief, oft confused with release
"Don't be so afraid - your beauty will come in time,"
And what of my womb? "It will grow with your endive seeds,"

Stirring in anticipation - I swallow my head
Womb and all, heart and soul - and plant a garden

Rocking my baby to the 1st Floor
Rocking my baby to the Garden of Eden
I leave my crying child in the arms of the Goddess
And pray for the womb to come within
The next lives of my soul while my baby cries deep within
The folds of Catherine of Siena - my righteous governor
They all cry deep within the creases of Cascia