Best Baptizing Poems
O April
how I’ve longed for your return
to breathe new life
into this gnarled body..
for these roots to be unfettered
from the grasping earthen frost -
the past season of fanged nor’easters gnashed
me bare - leaving me mauled and dulled
alone with stiffened limbs
lifted to face
the hard glower of old man winter
with not a morsel of mercy to be gained
but April
now that you're here to share
the innocence of the daisy
and the honeyed scent of the sweet pea
I feel inspirited like a sapling young and tender again;
mild is the fog’s embrace in early morn
as I taste your sweetened rainwater
and gentle is the rhythm of baptizing
showers bathing dark days away..
and ever grateful is my grayed heart
as it begins to beat
with the fresh pulse of verdant rebirth
oh April
how easily you inspire
my shy imagination to fly
with the zephyr's muse
to expand my artistry
in an afternoon’s brushstroke of forsythia light
dreams once frozen now thawed and golden
eager to flourish in bloom
awakening the poetry
in a new leaf’s unfurling whisper -
a whisper that grows a praising wind-psalm
as choirs of bursting buds
celebrate revival
with a rustling alleluia!
star-shaped sails rouse in swishing sounds
their leafy lyrical breath one with the breeze
my green-laden boughs now a wellspring
of exuberant born-again voices
a thronging rejoice lifted
to the heavens on the whisk of the westerlies;
supple is my sweep and sway ‘neath
the soft-bellied skies of Spring
dear lady, April
how I revel in the glorious abundance of your Nature;
your nurture enlivens my humble woody being
and though gray may shade my weather-beaten heart..
evergreen is my soul
Susan Ashley
April 12, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: April
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
You are water~
fluid moods
overflowing extremes
I dip my toes
testing
should I dive in
this time
will y o u let me sink or swim
have you r e a l l y changed
you are a lagoon
soothing cooling
tranquil
for now I float
in sweet oblivion
you are a shimmering mirage
of something I hope for
illusional life-giver
a fertile oasis in arid land
giving love unhurt to my heart
you move like an undulating river
natural flowing dynamic definite
sailing the curves
taking me places never imagined
when we're apart
you are a flash flood
white water without warning
cleansing destructive
baptizing both good and evil
you are a raging waterfall
beautiful in your steep revenge
threatening to roil me over the edge
you are a tsunami!
born of violent eruption
mortifying underestimated overwhelming
growing larger as I let you get closer
sweeping me up
slamming me along
with the rest of your emotional debris
you are a MAELSTROM!
dizzying swallowing suffocating
K i l l i n g
spinning
sucking me down
down
through the center
of a drowning depression
nooo
your circular violence
h a s n ' t changed
Trauma stained
my innocence,
before I knew
that the sunless
sky lost its glory
to doomed darkness,
an empathetic gaze
which roamed beneath my
saffron skin,
an ungodly vulture
disguised as a gracious
guide, whilst waking up
to wrinkled sheets of satin,
which burnt and betrayed
my virtue as an offspring-
as virginal petals
stained in blood,
drenched me in
cruel flashbacks.
I swam against
ghastly ghosts,
searching for
cosmic lilies,
floating on the crest
of a wave,
through unholy rivers,
baptizing darkest sins
of my exploited mind.
l've tasted sparkling
saline streaming
down tall murky falls,
Every ripple graphically
reminding me of
my childhood tears,
secrets which scarred
my strained soul
into suppression,
allowing dark voices in
my head to control
every aspect of
my conscience,
questioning the stars
that dimmed
their silver on me.
Was my fatigued
smile a written consent
to the bloodthirsty breezes,
brutally invading
every untouched cell?
Did I blindly sing
along to their lullaby?
Or have I been cursed
before I saw
the first light of life?
Perhaps these
questions will
forever haunt me,
there's no right
answer when
the ugly truth
has stolen every
reason to place my
trust in the
unkind mind
of the humankind,
for the devil resides
in their shameless
shadows, singing hellish clarity.
babe
I stumbled home—
drenched in Guinness, soaked in guilt
the apartment crumbles, a shattered ruin
but you—your copper mane ablaze—
my wild Morrigan
a feral Celtic Faerie Queene
waging war against the wreckage.
You told me love was a lie
stitched by leprechauns
but your touch proves
there’s truth in everything
we break and rebuild.
Chased the wail of a banshee tonight
hoping to drown the shame
gulped it down like bottom-shelf whiskey.
Instead I christened the clover—
four leaves or forty—who cares? —
baptizing failures
trembling hands at work.
In this emerald world of lies
forget unicorns rainbows and clovers—
false luck's for fools and drunks.
Luck’s a liar
a Puca’s trick
crumbling when touched.
But you—
wear that emerald dress
like a battle cry.
A storm inside a woman
whiskey-fire eyes dare me
to fall harder
and I do. Every time.
You are my reel—
venomous alive
an unseelie’s song
the one thing that won’t let me escape.
I’ve fed the snakes with my mistakes
but still
I kneel before you—
a fool
drunk on you
more potent than any fairy brew.
We aren’t saints
but we’re still here—
holding on to this wreckage
with blood-stained hands.
Pour another pint, love—
let’s dance on glass fragments
our broken dreams—
our frenzied jig
painting the town green—
two misfits spinning
through this carnival of Fiana fools.
In the chaos
in the ruin
we find each other.
No leprechaun guards our gold
but you—my queen of chaos—
are treasure enough
to keep me alive.
So here's to you, my wild Morrigan—
in your eyes I find my home
the only shelter I’ve ever known.
in your smile, I find sanctuary and storm alike—
for you, are my feral Celtic Faerie Queen.
Don't think like an ant for a tunnel to hide.
Imagine yourself a surfer.
Hanging ten!
With a beautiful surfboard and a wave to ride.
The sun casting a golden god color to your skin,
That fresh ocean water baptizing your face.
Ants can't ever do what you can.
So, stop being a Poet who writes the least you can.
Be a poet who can truly inspire....
The Family of Man.
February 9, 2020
7:30pm PST
I walked the beach and saw my footprints wash away with waves-
smoothing the sand without a flaw, and I seemed blessed in holy clime
as my soul, like trampled sand, felt healed by sea's baptizing hand.
Don't worry if you're making waves simply by being yourself. The moon does it all the time. ~ Scott Stabile
Silence sings
To the hungry soul
Baptizing night
In whispers of moonlight
Painting the morning
In a lemony sunshine
Breathing tenderness
On butterfly wings
Gentling the storm
With rain’s sudden visit
Warming the winter
By devoted fresh snowfall
Gathering the songs
Of falling leaves who call
Laughing through minds
Who hold onto their hope
Publishing poetic writes
On pages awaiting insight
Lighting the heavens
With a sense of praise
Overflowing sunset
In brilliant rays of tangerine
Loving the addition
Of grace and forgiveness
Leaving only healing
On the hearts who are willing
To listen to God’s spirit
Who will reveal His indwelling
Love like this is real
Filled with hope and giving
Second chances, new beginnings
Grace that is fulfilling
Assurance that salvation is given
To those who are willing
To follow God through time
Into eternity to find
Hope, faith and love
Are gifts from up above
And He has given us a peace
That can quiet the deepest grief
Love like this
Is the miracle of belief!
Bleeding music into
A heart who cries
Tears so gentle, so tender
They reflect the hope
So often called to mind
By one who knows
Lost love – left behind
Breathing light across
The soul who smiles
Peace and wonder, inspiration
Filled with grace, peace
Aliveness, a dance
Waltz of healing, stirring
Awake the flames
Of compassion, a brilliant
Whisper of emotion
Hushing the hysterical
Doubts and confusion
The disillusionment
Brought on by darkness’
Gloom, despair, distraction
The air of doubt
Curling around the murky
Stillness of a thought
Who bends with the weight
Of uncertainty, distrust
Baptizing these feelings
Who flow suspicion
Through the spirit
Sing of disbelief and dread
A blackness in hues of graying
Melancholy blended
In fear, nightmares diminishing
The beauty in a silence
The wonder in grace
The inspiration and enlightenment
Known by our sweetest praise
Praise Him through the worry
Let Him know your heart
Is always yearning for His touch
The warmth of a blessing
Filled with kindness and love
Strong enough to shine through
The shadows, lifting the dark
Inspiring the spirit to that fresh
Gentle feeling of pure, sweet hope
Let Him know you love Him
That He is the answer to each prayer
The whisper of a second chance
The song of inspiration and care
The guiding light who is always there
Soft fire is his eyes
fondling my soul without words
... twilight’s balm drips down
Our warm pulses meet
in thrills of hushed surrender...
baptizing fresh dawn
©
. …….. .
I thought other people into little boxes
me over here and them over there
I thought I was being oh so enlightened
forward thinking and completely aware
I thought boxes would clarify my thinking
show me who's different and who was alright
Somehow I couldn't get people to fit them
it seems my little boxes were way to tight
I couldn't see what made them all loveable
What I was judging was tied to my own shame
Little boxes were my way of being superior
if they were in boxes it's them I could blame
I needed to escape my cardboard thinking
division and labels confused my closed mind
It blocked out the light of my compassion
no good in people was I able to find
Rain poured down soaking the boxes
baptizing my brain, expanding my heart
As my eyes opened, I started seeing
these corrugated boxes being torn apart
People where happy, my world expanded
Colour and kindness ruled the day
For each person, I became truly thankful
In their company I wanted to stay
Each person that I meet is a true treasure
I celebrate that they're different than me
Labels and boxes, they can destroy us
preventing us from being who we're meant to be!
Light, like a morning
Dawn’s laughter
Reflecting so much joy
Sun silences the moon
Quiets the stars
Echoes brilliant hues
Of joy and insight
Light, like a whisper
Sunrise healing
Leftover darkness
Lingering fear, dread
Tears of regret
Pouring out peace
Threads of grace
Light, like a song
Rains down such hope
Never letting go
Of the wonder, the glow
Breathless a caress
Embracing the soul
With a miracle
Light, like a prayer
Gentling the passion
Lingering, everlasting
Breaking through the thoughts
Clinging to the dream
Feelings who believe
In this undying appeal
Light, like a smile
Glowing in the heart
Baptizing thoughts
In purity, embracing
Melodies of grace
Bound up in praise
His wonder so amazing
Light, like a feeling
Pleading for healing
Breathless with desire
His passion is the fire
That welcomes faith
Unending conviction
Credence, alive
Light, like a promise
Resonating hope
In a single word, a vow
To always care, to spare
The soul its verdict
Lifting the spirit
To always know peace
Light, thriving on the spirit
Singing to the brilliance
Of a love so gentle
So fulfilling and willing
To bring His spirit to life
Vibrant on the inside
Of those who believe in Him
Light, like this
Blesses and believes
It is God, it is grace
Who frees the soul
From darkness that grows
Out of sin, faults
Forgiven by our one hope…
Jesus, Savior of the world!
When seeking to write
a poem, no need to
descend into deep, dank
mysterious wells of
creation – after great depth
only to come upon
one's ignitable soul-fuel
my muse, for example,
far more accessible, generally
wearing just a glistening
strand of peals, basking
in a warmth of sunlight
for poetry is less the self
making new composition, and
more a process of internal revelation
one's own essence
radiating back the lyrics
of a poet's exclamatory spirit
calling up and out
for conscious reunification
with the Divinity of
All Declarative Being –
the celebration of freeing
that which is already
written – a penetrable
gazing crystal entrancing
artful nature into greater
self-awareness –
hidden truth distilled in
each vein long before
the tea and patterned reading
the poet first learns release
if to learn poetry; begins
by turning those internal whispers
into clear explorable volumes
slicing open, and peeling back
the skins of words, shattering
shells, releasing flocks of
phrases and images, making
yoke-leftovers into omelets
stuffed with eclectic tastes for
sharing
one writes to consume
and be consumed –
poetry, a sacred ceremony of life and death~
the poet his own baptizing priest while cold
handed embalmer.
I sit silently, so still
On the wooden chair in the den
Beside a window, sun raining in
Baptizing my thoughts
In warmth, blazing breaths
Of faraway wonders
The seat I sit upon
Once was a sturdy oak
Filled with dancing leaves
Sunshine purred through
Composing a song
Of detailed hopes, dreams
Pondered by graying
Branches so powerful
Cardinals and wrens convened
On them, a meeting
Heart, soul and mind
Chirping and crooning delight
As they while away the mornings
Reflecting on the mysteries
God’s wisdom, His creativity
Smiling from a sun who gleams
Against a backdrop of ridges
Emerald and sapphire mountains
Peaks like the hands lifted
In prayer, praising Him
The Maker of their wrinkles
The Reason for the massifs
Who preach hope, faith and love
Mixed together with joy and peace
As I sit on my wooden seat
Echoing my heart
Grace promises me to listen
As I share my soul
Glorifying the One who knows
My thought are the thoughts of
The gladness of knowing
His rising Son, the only One
To bring true hope
For the yearning soul
In the shadows of the setting sun
His peace reveals the saving love
I long for, plead for, wait for
With each prayer my thoughts invoke
Onyx clouds of failed love
Floating away in sunburned horizon
Ribbons of light
Rainbows so bright
Gently inspire new views
Gone are acid rain puddles
Of teal toxicity
And neon narcissism
As new refreshing love
Like warm white water is welcomed
Flowing from sky into
My life like baptizing hearts
And hydrating larks in the bird bath
Love from Mother Nature
Encourages cycle of life
For plants and all creatures
Just beyond a snowlike field of dandelions
a green caterpillar munches on leaves
Could be its dreams fill his belly
sprouting wings with which it will fly
Much like dreams of romance
creating butterflies in my belly
Filling my soul with gold hope…
let the butterflies come
The old country church where I used to go,
As a boy back then, now those precious memories flow.
I remember how sweet it was when my momma knelt right down,
And the song they sang about someday receiving God’s own crown.
Mrs. Murphy led the choir and she often sang so loud,
And sometimes off key, but she sang it oh so proud.
I remember those little paper fans and the pictures on one side,
And the one that stands out most was of Jesus being crucified.
And come baptizing time we’d all head out back, down to our little creek,
And when it was all over us kids usually played a game of hide-n-seek.
And dinner on the grounds, why we’d have us such a feast,
And everyone walked away full, that was putting it mildly to say the least.
I know those days are gone, but the memories linger on,
Probably some of the happiest days of my life that I’ve ever known.
Most people can relate to those tranquil days,
And in the back of my mind that little church will always stay.