The waters broke like a tidal wave cascading, forceful and angry.
Yet this fountain of life has given birth. That marks an effacement
tribute to your pain and bearing.
A multitude echoing your arrival. Look on behind the plate class shield
Magnifying your every move in nakedness.
This place is cleansed like some 21st Century catacomb. Dead, yet still breathing.
I'm not your Mother just a bringer of life into this world.
You hold out those tiny digits like some Victorian automaton. Magic and moving. Yet.
Soon, you will venture into that concrete jungle. Where life is precious and death is nothing.
Let those years be good and steadfast ones. Less you end up in that museum as an exhibit!