You thunder and dark, you blank,
you river river yourself out of reach:
no branching of body, no peaching
of pit enough for you to burrow your
way back to me. Let this hollow hold,
be a learning I can lean into, can psalm
into the pink of palm, a sign I can sing.
Let this bring me back to my own be-
ginning, belly bundled, born wet and
not yet wanting: let this widening
of world unwitch me.