Sacramental River

Written by Time Bete, OCDS

“Look, there is water. What is to prevent my being baptized?” — Acts 8:37

Photo by Delaney Van on Unsplash

High on the shore,
I heard the rapids call,
boils and eddies and current strong,
coaxing me to come closer;

the river’s surface a deception,
power and depth hidden below,
so I was naive and unafraid
as I gave myself over to it.

Like a child
in the waters of Baptism,
I did not understand
the river would require all;
once surrendered, no going back.

What looked innocent from afar,
seized my legs and arms and head,
tight wet grip,
immersing,
engulfing,
obscuring,
until I was one
with the water.

I could not think of breathing,
as I tumbled under the river’s control,
deafening rumble with
glimpses of sunlight above,
tossed about like a rag doll.

Then
as quickly as it had swallowed me,
the river spit me out again,
breaking surface,
sucking air,
a voice whispering,

“I have given you new birth.”