When a woman gives birth to her soul
she sees the moon in all its phases
She touches the beautiful, dark starry womb
of her own self, the mother
and she knows she is no mere reflection
of the sun, the father
but a brilliance that is solely her own

When a woman gives birth to the earth
she might need to scream out loud a lot
to those who would take away her power
through fear, because it makes people listen

When a woman gives birth to her own light
she has no place to go on this earth
except into the handcuffs of the waiting policeman
except into the stale jail of the hospital
and when she returns from the icy chill of a medicated birth
that numbed her body and tried to take away her voice
she sings out loud, "I'm the one whose eyes
shine clear like moonlight."
She sings out loud, "I've been to the sea and
it's all that means much now to me."
The sea is truth. The sea is love.
And the body is the cells of the earth.
And this cell is no prison. 
This cell is the Goddess
as big and as small as the moon.
As vast as the sky
and as small as a buttercup.

"Lying in your arms
like a guitar so sweetly played.
Cover me with your softness
for life is so hard
and I am not at all."