Baptized out of the window
You floated down, down, down, down
The hand that barely held you
Was your own
It couldn’t lift you up
From underneath
Even as you repeated to yourself,
“Go farther, farther on—
Until you’re shown
The holy
Experience”
A wicked and adulterous generation
Looks for a sign
Yours was Adam
Transfixed and drowning in the sky
Mouth blanketed by curiosity
Until he made his true confession,
The which you only heard
once he was reborn, crafted into a song:
Bereft of whistle cries and moans,
Bereft of afterbirth and danger—
With no knowledge of his mother
I was pleased with you
You didn’t shrink back
We sat in the cave
As he was passing by
Faces glowing, we waited
I heard you say,
“What has happened
to him?”
So I placed my heavy earrings
Softly at your feet—but it was already built
You built it for me
We built it together
but only you
danced
Baptized out of the window
I felt the cloudy embrace,
The fog that hides all hidden places
Start to dissipate
from the back of my face
The shaped silence stood to call me,
Knew my second secret name
He whispered to me, took his aim and tried to claim me
I will not wait a second time
Upon this Adam passing by
For whatever he has loosed or bound
With his drowned voice,
He cannot tell the sick,
“Be healed”
He cannot call the dead:
“Come forth”
With his withered hand,
Not fit to plow,
He cannot work the land—
He has no bread to break
I lifted up my heel against him
And cursed him for his broken promise
The Replanted Writer 