New Best poems 2016


  • I walked down from Nazareth with the crowd,
  • nudged on by their excited chatter
  • and rumors of a crazy man by the river
  • shouting God at sinners,
  • thrusting them into the Jordan
  • like so much dirty laundry
  • to be rinsed clean and pure.

  • These are my people,
  • hungry people
  • seeking new wine and
  • new bread, lepers
  • yearning to be cured,

  • But deep within me
  • silence grows,
  • and somehow I know
  • that I am closer to Home,
  • though so far away
  • from my father’s workshop
  • and my mother’s kitchen.

  • When John sees me
  • he takes my hands and gently
  • pushes my face into the stream
  • befouled with the sins
  • of the people…

  • I cannot see.

  • I struggle
  • to rise and breathe,
  • from this watery death
  • I want to be free,
  • and as I break through
  • I see His fire, I hear
  • His voice like a flash of wings
  • falling down on me,
  • calling me His Beloved Son,
  • telling the stunned crowd
  • to listen to everything
  • I will say,

  • in silence,
  • I hurry away,
  • into the empty desert
  • I stray.

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