Women writers from Sylvia Plath to Terry Tempest Williams to Tori Amos have described the poetry and stories they create as their children. Creating poetry is an organic, natural process and the result, the living fruit of our labors, is always intimately connected to its creator. If it fails, stops short of fulfilling its purpose, we are disappointed, our pride bruised, our abilities as mothers questioned. We did not nurture this one enough and its heart stopped before it ever opened its eyes; a stillborn, as Plath says. Or we may say that this one somehow has that intangible breath blown into it and stands on its own, alive. We work on them as much as we can and then let them go, hoping for them to walk on two legs