Sarah Law

the baptism of christ

From a throng – the heat and sweat

exacerbating all their inner grime – 

a man, baptising. His rough-cut

sunburnt words a contrast with the cool

of Jordan water. The plunge to your knees,

the spill and pour of ritual’s release,

brief peace soaks you; dries, forsakes you.

Something or someone must save you.

John refuses. Not your guru.

raw rejection courses through you. Then

all of it’s falling away. Only the sky, cerulean,

open. Only the face of the One, chosen.

a voice from heaven said

This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.

This is my beloved son, in whom I am well.

This is my beloved son, in whom I am.

with whom, and

This is my beloved son, in whom

and through whom

     This is my beloved son,

This is my beloved.

This is my body

This is — 

This. 

Sarah Law lives in Norwich, UK, and is a tutor, poet and editor of Amethyst Review. Her novel, Sketches from a Sunlit Heaven, was published by Wipf and Stock in 2022.