Saturday, September 12, 2015

Dipped in the baptistery

Dipped in the baptistery

Dipped in the baptistery
or the slow pulling river,

a new creature born in Christ this day,
a dropped hint, a rough image.

To the death required of every birth,
the mind by its nature remains impervious.

The door to Life is nailed shut
but is glimpsed through the keyhole.

What it takes, apparently, to enter
is every mental scheme and worry

construct left behind - becoming
pure spirit, finer than smoke, a cipher,

zephyr, while in the flesh
to sift, strain freely through

the open, keyless aperture
into Truth and Immortality;

to die clean, skinned and bled,
on this side, of every illusion.

O child of God, you are not the man you were
a moment ago nor the man you will next become.

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