Poetry

The Red Sea

By: Jack Berexa

A divinely parted sea,
Meaning…invisibility?

Tides rearrange.
Shift,
Lift,
Missed,
But never to not exist.

A divinely parted sea,
Meaning…bless the majority.

Red does not sink.
Red
glistens,
listens,
christens.

Then Red prefers, incurs,
Red…
Covert? Overt? Covert.
Covertly saboteurs.

But still by divine by Holy by perfect intervention,
Moses guides the sea.

This water evaporates,
precipitates,
coagulates,
gathering at the feet of the few.

Rising,
rising,
rising. Freezing.
Chipped into the shape of exclusion and persecution
by a clergy armed with ice picks.

I walk free.
The universe holds these icy temperatures
just for me.

Should Adam prefer a stagnant sea?
One in which there is no Holy.
But which draws no contrast to the unholy.

No matter.

Ordain us to continue looking to the stars.
A flower growing from the sun,
entangling humanity in what is most imperceptible,
most unstable.

Categories: Poetry

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