Wet Jesus

Baptism’s smell is talc and soap,
an unaccustomed freshness in the nave.
Christening gowns are spotless; mothers hope
they’ll stay that way, and children will behave;
and fathers strangely dressed in three piece suits
equipped with cameras, (prayer books under arm).
The liturgy proceeds; but heard? ’Tis moot.
The water pours, the babe sounds no alarm!
The Red Sea’s crossed, the parents sigh relief;
the candle’s lit, the sign of Christ in place;
a sudden wave of joy drowns unbelief.
In the wet, a life is filled with grace.
Never were Your words, O Lord, more true
“Let the little children come to You”.