Some of you I will hollow out.
I will make you a cave.
I will carve you so deep the stars will shine in your darkness.
You will be a bowl,
you will be the cup in the rock collecting rain.
I will hollow you with knives
I will not do this to make you clean.
I will not do this to make you pure.
You are clean already.
You are pure already.
I will do this because the world needs the hollowness of you.
I will do this for the space that you will be.
I will do this because you must be large.
people will find their way through you.
people will eat from you and their hunger
will not weaken them unto death.
to catch the sacred rain.
My daughter my son, do not cry,
do not be afraid.
Nothing you need will be lost.
I am shaping you.
I am making you ready.
Light will flow in your hollowing.
You will be filled with light.
Your bones will shine.
The round open centre of you will be radiant.
I will call you brilliant one.
I will call you daughter, son who is wide.
I will call you transformed.
by by Christine Lore Webber