A Seed

Steaming pot of rouge a cake of gentle moisture
Lips pressed, yellow fixture glowing from above
What could have been?
If I had chosen
I am no shattered mirror
And what I have earned is my own
My precious breathing
My dream of life
Being here above the streets
I thank Her for being alive
I thank my mother for being alive
Women have the power to create,
Or send their fetus back down into the cool darkness
Wise woman, plenty woman, maiden blooming
Parsley and blue cohosh
Weaving a destiny
I let a part of me wither
I let my seed wash away
My seed in my hand, I shed a tear
As the sky cries, I bury her deep
Knowing my seed will live within Gaia
My seed will live within me