Those He saves the Lord baptizes.
And though it may seem to be a flood
of pain and blood, a stern and wooden form
it is only by scraping hard a man gets clean.
It is only in pain and blood a man is born.
Then, let me be born a man.
Have gathered them close into their arms
And spun them dizzily around.
But I, blind as the mud to that delight
Cried out in my fright and surprise
And buried my eyes and sobbed aloud.
You have lifted me up and thrown me down.
You have carried me close and held me in the night.
Carry me back on Yours, and bring me home.
O Father! Do you even hear my please?
Is heaven deaf with age; do You even care, or see
This foolish lamb embraced by wicked thorns?
Or do they keep it from wandering far away,
Close to the Ram entangled next to me.
You filled a chalice with its blood and wept.
Teach me to only step where You have stepped.
The world is treacherous, its pathways cruel.
Say where to go with your kind Shepherd’s rule.
I’ll touch my mouth where Your own lips have touched
And know the cry of salvation here is such:
The wicked must drain it to the dregs
And won’t return with any olive branch
My chance for rest, when all the water dries.
The stars moved from their fixed place in the skies,
The earth has swayed in madness, the heavens flee –
Or is it Your steps I feel as You fondly carry me?
Let me lean by head upon Your rock-strong arms.
Feel Your breath upon my neck, and close my eyes.
And know that all is well, O God of Storms,
For You rock my childish heart with lullabies.