Here is the womb of life,
the death of our mind's night.
New eyes that long to open,
new wings that spread to flight.


An awakening of the hands,
souls shed ephemeral strife.
The heart here born new purpose,
in this the womb of life.


No god, no king, no roots hold might,
each one so frail in this new light.
For here stands love, its meaning right,
here is the womb of life.