The plot of our life sweats in the dark like a face
the mystery of childbirth, of childhood itself
what is it that calls to us?
why must we pray screaming?
why must not death be redefined?
we shut our eyes we stretch out our arms
and whirl on a pane of glass
A fix on anything
the line of life
the limb of a tree
the hands of he
and the promise that she
is blessed among women....
[Taken from Lyric 'Dancing Barefoot' by Patti Smith]