Womb by Rachel Barenblat,
“At the bend of the river
there’s a pond we don’t call
the womb of the world, though we could —
this patch of deep water reflecting
tall purple loosestrife.
The pond is a womb, the world
is a womb. Emerge glorious
and dripping, emerge like Life
radiant and new. Then listen
to cricket-song’s rise and fall —
the One Who speaks us into being
the One Who enwombs all creation
is murmuring blessing over
and over, telling us who we are.”
King Edward Street Chapel 