Baptism
I was afraid of the water, afraid
of its dark secrets, the muck underneath
darting slices of gold, the slippery grass,
the rough rocky bottom
afraid of the way it reflected back to me
my own face: pensive, doubtful, too young to forgive, too old to be making the same mistakes again and again
I entered as if in a dream, shivering, wanting the shedding of my sins
to be as graceful as your mouth
curving over the words, as sure as your hands
in steepled prayer, as humble as your knees soaked in green water, innocent of all desire but this one: to see me sanctified
and floated, the merest touch of a sister’s wrist to keep me from sinking into the bottom, the mud, the dredge of
my despair, and then my sudden
buoyancy as that life fell away, purged.The cool water held me to the purity of the vast sky, the gentlest lisp of breeze kissed my throat
© transparencies of light Finishing Line press 2011
