Seaweed wrapped and wrangled, nested in fronds
and tangled in stipes, Jonah curled his salt-
soaked spine, fetal in the bloated bonds,
the belly that stretched and stank—assaulting,
contracting, compressing until each rib
en-caged him like fingers, like the hard hand
that grabs the racing child with bruising grip
to pull him back from edges or up and
out of pits, those plunging depths from which we
call. Cradled thus, he waited a wry span
of days and nights during which his only
lullaby was digestion’s gurgle and
his only pillow, a spongy kelp blade.
Ensconced, his vigil swelled as ocean swayed.
This poem, inspired by the collagraph Jonah by Annette Fortt, was originally published in Inkwell, a publication of Christianity Today, on January 20, 2026. Used by permission of the poet.
Rev. Dr. Bethany Besteman is the pastor of worship and discipleship at Silver Spring Christian Reformed Church in Maryland and an editor for ReformedWorship.org. She has a PhD in English language and literature from Catholic University of America. Her poetry has appeared in Ekstasis, Presence, Reformed Journal, and Cable Street.
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