Some have called them flesh of gods,
Some say sterilization is a godly temptation,
A cleansed path to mushroom reward,
Some say they heal souls,
And other worried about soldiers desire to fight,
Or truth agents,
But to me the little holy children,
Are part of the garden of eden,
Sparkling in sabinas eyes,
Blue staining, purple,
Shiny and silvery,
Nor good nor bad,
Just webs of interconnection,
To the mother,
And her musical singing