As a child, I searched for God
Community, acceptance
being not from their world, was pushed away,
Eyes filled with the water of baptism
fallen from newly christened hair.
As a child I attended church camp in the red hills
Of Oklahoma.
Waterfalls and sandy beaches
Bonfires and tales of redemption in the dark
Young fears shaped by biblical verses.
Baptism by storm
I watched as the rain moved over the lake
a flat line of wind and hail
Moving inch by inch
Grey rain covering the sun
Falling at last on the budding chest
Of a girl-child with purity of hope
And belief that
The rain would bring
Cleansing to her world.
