For the child I do not have

Baby cracks on a bay egg

Settled safely under Mother Hen

In a red-stone ranch not far from here

If you want to run with the lions

That I know you so admire

And have the mightiest roar

That shakes the zebra to its core

You must be brave,

My child

If you want to have the tabby cat’s antics

That leave claw marks and curtain nicks

In the bustling city centre

You must learn to laugh,

My child

If you want to take a penguin’s dive

And freeze to death to know you’re alive

You must hold your breath,

My child

All this and more become a baby’s first steps

Into the arms of a mother well out of her depth

On that same red-stone ranch where you never learned to dance.