Babies

These pink babies keep coming,
One after another, it never ends,

which is a good thing. Despite
all the bad news of each

and every day, death, disease
and despair, nothing stops the birth

of more children. For things will change,
the wars will end, hunger will be a myth,

the blind will see. These babies,
these precious pink infants,

they assure us of tomorrow,
that the world will right itself.

Yes, let there be more babies.
Let them sail like untethered

balloons into the air, while we point
at them, aloft in the bright blue sky

of tomorrow, embracing the hope
of them, the radiance they give off

with no thoughts of their own.
The babies will save us.