Divine Rumor Poem by Cailey Martin

They said there would be more.
One by one, stepping-stones sink beneath
The rising tide, vanishing like myths

This Just In: Jesus is dead and gone.

Are we to stride upon the sea like insects?

I heard the roiling waves would one day cease,
That a windfall would descend from above;
But the water's wide open. No activity to report.

We tie our hair back & lean into the deep,
Eyes magnetized and throats prickling
From the brine of disappointments swallowed-

Looking down at the whooshing current
Between us and promised peace, wondering:
How can we bridge this earthly seam?