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

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