This poem is dedicated to Stacy, who wondered about blessing peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.
I was inspired by the work of Masaru Emoto.
This poem is only published here.
Photo by Julia Zolotova on Unsplash
I Bless My Water Before I Drink It
This morning, I said be well
or was it, be the well. It doesn’t matter
which container. Stars without number
are holy secrets. Finally
I get why communion is the thing
you cling to, a symbol left for what is true,
and the bread. My water waits in its little green glass
brewing the words, ready to serve.