Third Prayer of My Body
What are you—girl, woman, mother? Which one
are you, keeping watch before this temple, where
silence heals my body, as it kneels in prayer.
What does your coming bring it—light or gloom?
What are you—girl, woman, mother? Which one?
What are you, standing so still in dark repose
in front of this body, whose voice with a cry pursues
the wind as it roves beneath secret skies,
whose voice is the thirst and cry of the earth’s own cry?
What are you, standing so still in dark repose?
What are you? Are you girl, woman, mother?
You, still as stone before the door of this temple
bearing the mighty name I TRIUMPH—
you lifted this body up, exalted and solemn.
What are you? Are you girl, mother, woman?