Pansy loves children.
And she'd love to have a child one day.
Some women choose not to have babies. Others would love to have a baby but can't. Some adopt, some don't. One woman had a baby although she was a virgin.
Last week the Times published a picture of a burnt baby on the front page. The baby was found by someone rummaging through the rubbish bin for food. It was still burning, wrapped in a cloth with the mother's placenta.
This picture caused quite a stir, with the newspaper being inundated with phone calls and e-mails, and hundreds of people expressing their views in the comments section.
According to the people in the township, this happens all the time. Up to 30 babies are dumped monthly.
Pansy doesn't normally read newspaper articles about dumped babies. It's so depressing. But the front-page picture forced her to think about it.
Pansy felt sorry for the mother who wasn't happy to be having a baby. It's like when a woman decides to abort.
Perhaps this woman was raped, or works as a prostitute. Did she give birth alone? Why didn't she go to the hospital? Is she an illegal immigrant? Why didn't she know that she could give the baby up for adoption? Did she kill the baby before burning it? Surely she didn't burn it while it was still alive? Perhaps it was still born.
And the baby? If it was unwanted it could probably feel that already when it was in the womb. Maybe knowing that, it also didn't want to live.
That picture of the burnt body in foetal position was heart-wrenching. So Pansy wrote a haiku for the mother and baby, and for mothers and babies like them.
Maiden weeps, deflow'd.
Weeps again, with child endow'd.
Weeps. First breath, cry. Life.
Joy gives way to fear
Linen shrouds and alter near
Incense fills the air.
Mother weeps, devour'd.
Weeps again, labelled a cow'd.
Weeps. Last breath. Sigh. Die.
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