THE NEW BIRTH

Long ago,
At Calvary,
This filth-filled mortal embodiment
Of earth and slime
Found recompense—
A rejuvenation of the soul, transactioned
At the master’s feet—
Pardon for guilt; grace for sin; beauty for ashes…
Of a wherewithal so precious
And red,
The priceless fluid
Of divine atonement.

Before that gracious recall, it played
The proud host to gravely ills
Debauchery, avarice, fornication, sloth…
Adorned with lust and inflamed with infernal covetions
Till there on the cross,
At Calvary,
The old man was crucified with Christ.
And there he died.

A seed must first die
Before a new plant can grow.
Before the new man can grow,
The old man first must die;
Not that he’s sown, but he dies to donate allowance.

Then stepping out
From the pool
Of confessional immersion,
Forth emerged the new man,
Renewedly rebirthed—born again.




An excerpt from my poetry collection TENDRILS
David Numshi Musa © 2009