The spin-top tree sighed and fell silent.
He delved into his oceanic mind
After a day and night of deep deliberation,
He finally spoke
In a voice, soothing as caress,
‘My dear queen,’ he said softly,
‘As sad as your story is,
As genuine the need for answers
It’s hard to know what happened eons ago,
For it has been that long since you arrived in our tiny world.
‘After prodding and pondering at length,
I may have a ghastly solution,
To your irreparable deeds
‘Since your sorrow is of a child,
Your redemption must be through children.
‘From now ‘til there is none;
Each time you hear the anguished cry of an innocent
That has been left to wilt
You shall break a fragment from your brittle heart,
Offer it in prayer to appease the gods.
‘Ask them a boon,
So the child be saved, found and comforted
So that another tender life,
Shall not be fated a mother like you.’
And so it was and the queen obliged.