Baptistry

 

 

The rustling forest stills itself

with Zacharias silence.

The lone passion of retreat

ignores an autumn chill.

Lightning seeks the horizon

as day breaks intense introspection.

 

Monotone rhythms subside,

reality to metaphysic becomes

intuitive, indulged,

then blind –

a quiet penance seeking

the inner labyrinths of mind.

 

Francis kneels naked,

hands bleeding,

pointing to the edge of a lake

where a wild-haired,

red-eyed madman,

with sun-slit mica eyes,

 

skin like pungent earth,

lips like aged labia,

stands knee-deep in muddy water,

beckons me to cleanse myself,

speak to sensitive creatures,

divine prophetic time.

3 comments

  1. Craig,

    So many dichotomies on the pathway to the stars.
    “stands knee-deep in muddy water,
    beckons me to cleanse myself,”
    You have a keen mind and a masterful pen.
    I’d like to spend a day inside your head!

    Sarah

    Like

  2. Hi Craig

    This one is riveting! You capture the wild and unhinged sense of the prophet ,who baptizes, with vivid and compelling description —

    where a wild-haired,

    red-eyed madman,

    with sun-slit mica eyes,

    skin like pungent earth,

    lips like aged labia,

    stands knee-deep in muddy water,

    beckons me to cleanse myself,

    speak to sensitive creatures,

    divine prophetic time.

    What I like about your version is how the primal insight of this man may seem unsettling on the surface but yet the divine grace of God is revealed through his vocation and his instruction, how he beckons the narrator to wash clean his wounds, sins etc but also to speak to “sensitive creatures and have empathy for others. The baptistry and the one baptizes humbles us and strips us down to our raw humanity.

    Very well voiced!
    thank you,
    Wendy

    Like

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