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.