Tuesday, March 3, 2009
"Unless you are born of water and the Spirit, you cannot enter the reign of God." John 3:3
I am tossed into high seas
waves breaking over my head taking
my breath, my feet out from under me.
It is dark and I am afraid
that I will not survive.
Blue green living water moving
crashing swelling and retreating
water swirling with life and spirit
and I am off balance and thrilled.
This baptism, this birthing I am aching
the pangs of growth and life
my flesh is contracting expelling
life and I am gasping for air
for a foothold for a hand.
I was born on a rough wooden splintered
floor outside the realm of good people
and now I am born again
dressed in the robes of belonging
a child of the tempest, the wind
I know rough waters and rough
hands that plow the fields and beat
uppity women and wayward children
and yet you have shielded me
as your child, your own offspring
born in dust, marked for heaven.