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 yell, "Fuck" 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 signs 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."