Short Baptizes Poems

Water
Gives life
Revives us
Baptizes some
Without fresh water we would not survive...

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The smoke white 
Indian moonlight
Slices through
The sycamores trees
Baptizes all the
Bird that sing at night...

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African heat
Burning as smoke, brief relief
Come early, before dawn, see egrets
Dawn dew or drizzle baptizes me
Evaporation quickly removes signs of relief
Father God knows all; Africa will rise...

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She quakes,  She rumbles,
She moves the rivers.
She creates holes down toward Hell.
She tears apart homes 
and families.
She makes the mountains bow down to mother earth.
She baptizes everyone with fire....

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I imagine and experience you,
When you are not in my presence
My fantasies consist of showering you
With countless amorous treasures
The heavens weep in adoration,
Blessing my tribute to your exquisite essence
Angelic tears baptizes our spirits as one,
In purity unmeasured...

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Have you ever felt a southern night?
The warm moonlight baptizes your skin
As you quickly befriend the ground.
Your ears are clasped by the choir
Of sycamores as the breeze runs its
Fingers through your hair.

Your mind grows legs and walks
Away from worry and fear.
To fall asleep would disappoint-
Because no dream can flood your
Body like this soft, southern night....

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Say Yes, Poets

To the first breath you take.
To your morning coffee, so
wonderfully aromatic.
To that morning shower that
baptizes you.
To fill your thoughts with ideas,
that are awesomely poetic.
To your God, be especially
thankful to.

To the poem, that magically
dances your way.
To all the poets here, that they
have good health.
To having hands and a pen.
To be given yet another day,
to share your beauty again!


July 26, 2019
5:30am  PST
...

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Still water crashing apon the shore,
preserving all it drowns.
You can find it nuturing flowers, 
find it rotting trees.
Seek it out in wells so deep,
running down steps so steep.
Evaporate it from stagnate pools in morn,
and condensate it from steam in evening.
For still water baptizes me in hands of John,
and heals me in your hydrotherapy.
And it will entertain in a child's water gun
streaming down from heaven above,
and forgetting hell below.
Oh praise thee still water....

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She sits among the flowers on the ground.
A young flower amid a bed of thorns.
Genteel on this conspicuous platform,
with flowers gathered closely all around.
She baptizes with water from her hand,
then prunes the withered from this flower stand.
Unity is there among the weeds,
that strengthens fading petals on their stems.
Cultivating roots, distributing seeds,
elegant blossoms for her diadems,
with sweet nectar for all the birds and bees,
luring repasts from ancient recipes....

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