God, what am I asking of you?
Remake me as you once did
when you hefted a shovelful of clay from a garden
and threw me into being.
Knead me with your knuckles
Smooth me with your palms
Sprinkle water on my stiff, dry edges
Love me again as a creator loves.
God, this is what I ask:
Charge me with the anticipation
of being created, of falling and rising
under your hands, turning as in a dance
until I am new.
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