All the crimson stones on earth
Are washed with God’s blood.
That is why crimson stones
Teach us how to be children.
When we are children
God goes around with us.
Touches our earrings
And our necklaces.
Hides in our shoes and
The folds of our little girls’
Ribbons.

I must buy a crimson dress and crimson bed
A crimson ring
And lamp.
The time must come
When the mother’s time runs and then runs out.

The blood that knows to wait
Knows too to turn to stone
It hurts to be here in this world. I came to know it.

Crimson darkness
Blue darkness
And the beginning
They must all mean something
Since our mothers stay with us and so does God.