cradle dead

i
it is said
that anesthetized
patients hear all that is
spoken in their
presence,

that the wakeful
inhabitants of the
womb experience the
trauma of the
outside,

& the babe in swaddling
clothes is a prisoner with
legs that cannot run & a
heart that runs too
fast.

ii
a baby comes to life
trailing crowds of angels &
rainbow
light.

a baby soul is
snowy white, a baby
smile is
joy.

but the crib is ruled by
shaking raging monsters
thunder voices
pounding hands.

the infant smiles &
waits & wonders &
fears & trembles &
cries & wiggles &
writhes
twisting tightly inward as
the baby heart
dies.

iii
so
the
bough breaks
&
baby falls
down.

iv
we enter
through the
gate of paradise

behind us slams the
gate of hell.

& life is one
long sleepless night
praying for the tenderness
that hardly ever
comes.