Witness Poem by Borce Panov

while I watched the priest's hands
and the naked baby
in the holly water,
with not yet decayed string of the navel,
I thought:
that when a man is born
then God
is cutting the umbilical cord
between heaven and earth
and the only witness
of the sacrament
is that tiny navel, squeezed like a little fist
of tough life
which by the end
we'll hide it under clothes
without knowing
how long
we'll have to hide the nudity
of the sky
and whether we will,
heavenly naked,
go back to Him
or
partially undressed
from clothing of the body
again
will be send back down