Listening to every heart
The Mother and the Babe
She had quite a lovely body
she stood a stance and line,
she lovingly carried her babe,
almost a full month nine.
But one early cool morning,
a bit before the time,
the babe it did come about
before the full month nine.
The mother was in deep distress,
her babe it did not move;
Melancholy it did sit in,
as if death it did behoove.
The mother stayed there by its side
she would not give up hope.
The father came and lingered there,
as if to help her cope.
Now if I were you,
I would shed a tear,
for the next part
of this story here.
The mother, a Hereford, did give birth,
the babe, disfigured, fell to earth;
the mother, she licked, and was quite forlorn,
she struggled over her dead babe born.
The father, black Angus, came around,
saw the babe upon the ground;
and in the way of bull and cow,
licked the mother's sorrowed brow.
I know that life here on this earth,
ends with death, begins with birth;
and feelings live in animals, do so believe,
and do not think just humans grieve.
Karilea Rilling Jungel
10 February, 2000
Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow