Theophany Poem

Theophany Poem January 6, 2009

How is it that my Creator comes to me?I’m not worthy.

To quench is my fate.
THIRST
All can relate.
Before Eden thou wast; even before the flood.
I parted for Thy people at the behest of Moses, Thy chosen one.
I’ve whetted e’ery path man’s trod; every field he’s plo’d.
At Thy command I came to be; my rest shall be in Thee.
Tell me Lord, what brings Thee to me? I’m not worthy,
I must confess.
Me? I cleanse from sweat, dirt, sand, and disease.
Washed away are cares and burdens — the soot of the day —
in my waves.
John calls forth the people.
In their salvation I participate.
Yet, to Thee, how can I relate?
For without, I’d not be.
Jest it seems!
(Agent of cleansing feels dirty in the presence of the King.)
Cleanse me, O Lord, that I may be worthy of Thee.
THIRST
I am water.
I lack nothing but Thee.
At Thy baptism, O Lord, Thou hast found me worthy.
Quenching, cleansing:
paths, fields, people,
salvation;
I
shall ne’er be the same.

Come Lord Jesus,
cleanse Thou me!

Published in 2005 on the Antiochian Webpage – click the link for other Epiphany offerings.

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