My true self is waking.
She speaks to me in mysterious dreams.

        I dream I speak to her.
        She is told to step into the tornado.

I am torn, I am winded. I am afraid to sleep.
A hawk carries me in its strong talons.

        Carried into deliverance, sharp and pointed— 
        divine, like Jonah’s whale.

Well, what can I say about the divine?
This god-shaped hole called myself.

        God’s calling; will I heed the call?
        Will I answer to what I’m meant to do?

Will I become who I’m meant to be?
My true self is waking.