WAR-BABY

THE CHILD like mustard-seed

Rolls out of the husk of death

Into the woman's fertile, fathomless lap.

Look, it has taken root!

See how it flourisheth.

See how it rises with magical, rosy sap!

As for our faith, it was there

When we did not know, did not care;

It fell from our husk like a little, hasty seed.