Poem November 17, 2008 Issue

Baptism in Siloam

Lance Carden

So tapping his cane,
he made his way,
his eyes all ruddy
with soothing clay.

Before he saw that reddish stain depart,
the blind man's new identity
was complete,
already firmly fixed in mind
and heart.

His gaping opened eyes caught
and relished
the retreat from his hands
of all traces those two clay feet
of cruel heredity,
dissolving gently into naught.

It defied human reason,
to see history so dispatched,
cast out,
sent and left apostolically
in the cleansing water
of the fount.

So, when the reborn beggar
started waltzing about cane-free,
it was no longer he
but those in authority
who proved most lacking
in their capacity to see.

—Lance Carden

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