by Christopher Good
I knew a man once
(not fourteen days ago)
who went down into Jordan, rain falling
down and down, the dirty water
circling, eddying round his breaking
baptized into Death.
And the Baptizer stood by,
beside him in the water,
scarred feet set firm on the hard
stone of the bottom, flotsam
caught in his beard, the wind
whipping his hair in the mist, water
flowing round his belly.
But cold wet Death
burns strangely warm in the cold
circle of the horizon, and the Baptizer
smiles, and a living stone
floats in the rain.
Christopher Good is a deeply opinionated Canadian Christian socialist thinker and craftsman; he enjoys church sociology, literature, languages, music, and building hospitality furniture.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy