The Baptism
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Like a baptismal rite, the waters flow
upon the sandy shore marred by the feet
of travelers. There, in the golden glow
of sun, where sky and land and ocean meet,
each scar is washed away by the deep reach
of faithful waves, poured from the font-like sea;
here liquid spirit bathes the pitted beach
and leaves behind unblemished purity.
I walked along the water's edge and saw
the prints I made, which in a moment's time
were gone- the shore, agleam without a flaw,
and I exulted in the holy clime-
As if my soul, like scarred and trampled sand,
was mended by the hallowed sea's great hand.
May 12, 2015
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon - Mile 11
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
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