Baptism

There is no font.
The pipes are shut off.
The choir is silent.

John stands
In the river,
Hair wild,
Voice cutting through sirens
And brightly colored plumes.
He says the water remembers mercy.
Begin again.

Downstream
Names become wristbands.
Windows don’t open.
Lights never dim.
Cases outlive childhood.
In Jesus’ name.

John lifts the water in both hands.
The river knows.

-Christie C. White