How could I have thought He wouldn't ask for more,
Us in the boat as He rows from the shore?
The land now recedes, midnight becomes noon,
Dark becomes light, the sun takes the moon.
Crosses and stars, other symbols so grand,
Water and fire, sunlight on the land.
Sun becomes Son, and the moon, El Shaddai,
Symbols are real, and symbols don't lie.
The hammer that nailed is now the hammer that breaks
The past from the future, erasing mistakes.
The shattering hurts, breaking the past,
But Father, Son, Spirit--these things will last.
(A poem about my baptism.)