You are a miner
masked, gloved, alert
bent over the blessed opening
You reach with skilled hands
to grip and pull
new life into the light
You force the slippery infants
into their destiny
day after day
inexhaustible mine
You send them with a pat
into their future
some will be saints
some will be sinners
some will build
some will destroy
all will die
the angry screaming
bundles of need
are waiting at the gate
demanding their first gifts
of milk
and sleep
and love