St John the Baptist

john the baptist

The truth within me swells until it feels

I have to birth it. Womanish perhaps

but that’s the best description of the strength

inside erupting; Herod felt its lash

of condemnation. Evil putrefies

in those who think they are beyond reproach.

I call God’s chosen ones to be baptised

repenting of their sins, to bear good fruit.

We think this man has demons, mixing with

the riff raff by the Jordan, wearing oddball clothes

and eating locusts. Such a blessing was his death -

without us being there. But now they say

he’s back again in Jesus whom the crowds

adore. This time we’ll have to be involved.


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