I Am Said I (Huruma)

What I feel   is the cold  dark night  of Shepherding shivering by the stable door not perceiving what I have seen not understanding what I have heard I want the swaddling blanket of a baby born breast on which to rest my weary head the child-cry in me  am I past all that? and destined now for mothering the child fathered folded in my arms resting her head to sleep upon me the trusting trusted the needy needed