After the struggle would she rest
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From her pains
Then would I pick you up
I would wade my fingers
Through your face
To clear the tears and the blood
The face that is mine I would feel.
Your cries, to you would be the sound
Of want, of fear or a desire for mother's breast
But in my ears,the sound would be
The sweet tunes of a newness found-
A sign from Heaven that I've been blessed
For you are the Son of my strength
To my days you would pour out length.
You are flesh of our flesh
The Bone of our bones
You are the strength of her groans
You are Blood of our blood
The Seed from my pod.
The wind blows where it pleases, you hear its sound but can't tell where it's coming or going...