Matthew 3:1-6

Christian Century, March 14, 2001 by David Craig

   In the madness of sanity, John, half-naked, hair-shirted,
   speaks with the voice of the Desert Flame
   who allows the grass to wither, men to bear
   the weight they've given, in pride and deeds, their names.
   "Prepare the way. For what is close at hand,
   burns." And the people, convicted, edge in a mass
   toward the bar. The Baptist would drown each man
   again and again, until, in death, the last
   lie is down, and this sin, our daily bread,
   is exposed: a food that starves, a meal that feeds
   itself. When I hear I thin, am wracked and fed
   in a desert, scored with personal habits, needs.
   To husk my life I need to raze what seems.
   Let my violence, sighs, offend the world, its dream.