The Baby Speaks (V)

Think of me when you run, loud and rolling in the hay
When your roar trembles hoarse, and your breath has gone away
There’s a God who will hack through fields of wheat and plains of barley
‘Til He’s found you asleep on rugged ground
He will know you by name and reach inside here to retrieve me
And He’ll find out you’ve turned me into coal
Are you deaf to my kicks, do you listen when I cry?
Water churns when I swim, how I rumble and I fight
Do you drink while you have me in your black and rotten tummy?
Do you think that my Father doesn’t know?
I’m awake; can’t you feel me growing taller every evening?
You forget that it’s not just you and me
In the slow, rolling tide of my little lake inside —
In the dark, bloody light of your center I am blind
Yet I still see the world so much clearer than you ever could;
It shocks me and fills me with this dread
When I’m out it will be as if you never really knew me
You forget who my Father really is