The death of John the Baptist

Even from prison, John,

your fierce spirit outfaces Herod. 

Irked, but intrigued, 

he hears the words which vex,

unwelcome guests which lodge

in his unquiet mind. 

Even in death, John,

at his garish party,

from a gory platter,

you outface him again,

disrupt the squalid schemes

of the bitter wife,

the naive dancing girl. 

And still you are not done. 

The Greater One

whose path you heralded,

takes your fierce call

and makes it more,

and Herod, hearing, fears

that you’ve returned 

to plague him once again. 

We hear your words, John,

urgent, clear and stark. 

You faced our treacherous world

and said, ‘Enough.

Turn round. Dare to dissent.’

When we are tempted by

the broader path,

to dally in deceit and compromise,

you stand unmoved and call us back

to make our desert pilgrimage.