Baptism

older poem I'm restoring

 

Gray stone clouds

         Press the cold air

 

                         Into the wet grass

Raindrop jewels adorn

           The green grass combs

Laced carelessly through my tousled hair 

                                    My eyes spill over with His presence

   It scrapes off my imperfection

                             

   Ripping away the weight of my fleshy self

To leave my naked essence                                

                                     Open to the cold glare          

                My every flaw shines

In His all encompassing light

Reviews

[Not Afraid of Bruises]

I like it. It's missing something, though I can't put my finger on it. I consider great poetry to be poems that say things in ways that no one has said them before. Your title is Baptism, but I think you should connect that more into the poem. Just an idea. Best of luck and keep writing :)