THROUGH WATER
Working in my kitchen,
TV in next room, news
reporting flash floods
sweeping a summer camp
in Texas. Children missing;
frantic parents; tragedy
all too sudden.
Young ones
so alive;
now gone.
Listening with one ear,
waiting to hear alarm
speak of baked loaf, fresh
bread risen, anticipating
warm tongue taste as
I sample what ingredients
combining, become.
Finding death as rising
waters recede; daughters
white coffins in churches
where ministers recite
familiar words; “I am the
resurrection and I am the life”.
My risen loaf, now
broken and eaten
invites into death.
Consuming
what once flourished
in golden fields
baptizes me
in loss.
Waters rising
causing growing grain
alongside litanies of pain.
Fruiting future season
approaches; resurrection?
© Phil Kemp 2025
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