There are no words to explain the comforting thing
the dark ocean the dream where the ground opens up
and the thunder hurtles over the night:
there’s no one in the trench but us the flowers reach up
through the dust like rubies shining messiahs
bent into their final shapes. The martens
sit on the panzers like hood ornaments. The old gods
fold the whiteness into a flag apotheosis
love is the secret the talisman passed down
through the generations. The storms that wake us
are the storms that give light to the darkness
music to the night time to our lives as we live them.
Jessica Van de Kemp is a member of the Ontario College of Teachers and is currently pursuing an MA in Rhetoric and Communication Design from the University of Waterloo. Her work has appeared in Buttontapper Press, The Danforth Review, Vallum, Branch Magazine, The Steel Chisel, ditch, The Fieldstone Review, and In Parentheses.