You're home, hold on
I came to earth for flesh To bend this spirit into body To become the thing To know the thing To touch water This is the mud packed with tiny sticks and berries in my hand bones The soot, traveling up the cracks of my toes The spring coils at the base of my neck and the glides of my hips There are boulders That will fall into the story of your life Like rhythms Meteorites smashing down On precious land Each weeping wound Becomes a port hole for transformation Pray down over those sacred spaces Remake yourself God again And again