Portion - universityofafricanart.org

All midwives must touch,
To feel the aura of life,
Apart from those obvious
Vital signs of existence.
Often failed have vital signs,
Prognosis feel weak,
But the aura of life
Is still vibrating
Inside the still body
Of your dying Old World.
With my bare fingers,
I will call forth
The little life left
In the breathe of the baby
And nurture it back
Into human shape and form
With my own kneading.
I use no herbs,
I push no needles.
I model life
With bits of clay
Watch it take shape
As it rises headfirst
Like living bread
As yeast raises its own spirit
From passing soul of time
Out of bare nothingness,