Out of Nun
We have shambled.
Quiet breath we
Breathe, and dip bodies into lands, and something
Lends heart to grief.
Something gives leaf to barrenness,
To hollow swell that was before
Form, before
Figure making figure making figure weaving
Words to give mental figure to
Form.
Flint to
Knee, the darkness sparked us.
The darkness
Gave light and beneath,
Slowly,
Sank into dream…
A daring sacrifice. So we could be.
And out of womb
We have shambled.
The Larkspur Horne 
I really liked this one, particularly because you mention Nun, the primeval waters. Great imagery for me. Thank you!
I was hoping someone would catch that! Wonderful. You are most welcome.
Absolutely brilliant i love this