My dusty skin soaks in a pool
A life unguarded, school of cool
I'll risk a plunge and watch them drool
Take dunk of faith, unleash a duel
Dirt rinses off. "I see!" I say
But my bold burst of child's play
Evokes loud cries. "How dare you spray
Such flagrant joy on holy day?"
"What impish hand, what crimson cheek!"
"You've rocked our ship; it's sprung a leak!"
Hot tears they blink, cold words they speak
Into a whirlwind harsh and bleak
"You've clogged our ears and stung our eyes"
Their noses, shocked by my surprise,
Sneeze out a countless stream of "whys"
And yet no answer satisfies
"But you implored me to explain"
My fruitless pleas swirl down their drain
They clearly view me as a stain
A visual blot, a verbal pain
They call my folks. "Is this your son?"
Two nods. "Looks like he's having fun."
"That's not allowed." "Oh, guess we're done."
More inquiries my parents shun.
I'm questioned for the longest time
About the splash that cleansed my slime
Oh wondrous miracle sublime,
This baptism they call a crime!
They've excommunicated me
"Cured on a Sabbath. Heresy!"
He wet the clay. "Now wash," said He
And so I did, and now I see
This poem is based on events recorded in John's gospel, chapter nine, when Jesus spat in mud, placed it on the eyes of a man born blind, and sent him to wash in the pool of Siloam. He did as Jesus said and came out seeing, thus making quite a "splash" with the spiritually blind religious leaders of his day.
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