The Baptism Poem by Steven Federle

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,

but frightened,
I hurry away,
into the empty desert
to stray.