There are faces peering in over the edge of my crib
This is morning, day one
And that must be father in the overnight beard
And the borrowed surgeons' mask and gown
I should screw up my face and bare all my gums
And exhale the cry of the new born
There are faces that frighten to greet me at school
This is morning, day two
And that must be teacher all smelling cologne
And wielding the bamboo cane
I should screw up my face and hold back the tears
And cool my palms with my breath
There's a very pretty face upturned for to kiss
This is morning, day three
This must be the one - the warp to my weave -
On the loom of the big tapestry
So we'll wander the earth in search of a nest
And settle for less than our dreams
There are faces all smiling in standing ovation
This is morning, day four
So this is the prize of the greedy unwise
In their pointless pursuit of the grail
I should swallow my words and choke back the tears
And stupidly thanks all, even god
There's a face peering back from the bathroom looking glass
This morning, day five
"Could this be the mask I've lived in?" I ask
No wiser now crumpled by time
I should screw up my face and clutch at my chest
And cry for another reprieve
There are faces peering in over the edge of my bed
This is morning, day six
And that must be nursey in the starchy white dress
Who whispers "It won't be long"
I should relax and let go
Let go of it all
And exhale the breath of the newborn