Baptism For A Dead Child Poem by Dennis Murphy

A young mother is rushed into a hospital delivery room
the term yet unfinished more than ten weeks too soon
the wise and learn-ed doctor bends to say
an unstirring child will be the outcome this day

The mothers first is much for her to bear
quick to grab his knife to remove the tumor
he stops his chanting and dancing to say
there's a large possibility the vessel dies so pray

The child's heart-beats the liveliest dead tiny boy
she's weakened released of her burden she clings to this world
but the shaman's carnage may yet consume her
bleeding clotted deaths pale face recedes to color

odds just don't matter nothing is without fail
zero percent chance for survival no such thing
one hundred percent chance no such thing
death the only certainty where-when is life's mystery

Double dutied Priest has given two rites tonight
Last rites for a tired mother
Baptism for a dead child