The rhyming of genes
spins out iambic souls
dancers leaping from the poesy of the womb
a wild doe loses track of last spring’s foals
as the miracle of birth ushers in perpetual bloom
to mothers whose mothering fabric is torn
by words and actions war and famine bring
every time a rhyming soul is born
the divine in human kind sings
and every time a scarred warrior
his sword and shield lays upon the ground
above the steaming battlefield
is heard
a peaceful
all forgiving
lullaby-like sound.