Baptism
written by: John Ebute
I imagine myself standing before the lofty majesty of God,
my eyes unable to meet His gaze,
not for fear that I’d melt under the blazing brilliance of His eyes
but how can they look up, burdened with the weight of a million questions?
A plea, not a question, however, slips out of the sanctuary of my mouth:
Baptize me, Lord.
They say He knows everything, still, I do not want to take chances.
So I make haste to show Him all the years of my life spent in
the mundane ritual of exfoliation.
How I peel off, layer after layer, the curtains of my flesh
till I can finally reach the protected pools of my soul.
But whenever I peer into the tranquil waters,
my eyes do not return with any reflection.
So I’m forced to imbibe the ways of a taxidermist–
dress this still statue, that is my body, with the skin and face
of whatever I wish it to be.
But the sun always guffaws at me, saying it wants no part in
my hypocrisy and then every trace of my makeup comes undone.
I want something real, something more permanent.
So God, soak me in Your water and let me arise a new man.
Let Your dove whisper into my ears– a christening.
So this boy will know his place in this chaotic world.
