CONCEPTION
Destinies branch into the unknown,
Emanate from the Womb of the
long Trunk—
A trunk rooted deeply in Time.
Can the womb contemplate
The ways of Providence-
The womb must protect
Nurture and Nourish.
What lies in an unfettered bliss
Must grow to live in Bondage,
Wear the green of life,
And now allow Providence
To sever ties,
To conceive a new birth
That admits of no Womb-
A Life led through the arches
Of measureless immensity.
