The voice of one crying in the wilderness
Was it merely a kick
or had prophecy returned
when Jean Baptiste stirred
from his mother’s digestion?
Looking forward to the days
of crazy John stalking desert
rocks for—what is it? manna,
for Providence,
and receiving crisp locusts,
he roused from a 400-year slumber,
the deep sleep between gyres.
Foreglimpsing the suckling
breast, he confused it
with honey in the wilderness,
foresuffering decapitation
and pretense at cannibalism,
he felt the coming Messiah
in the womb and word of his aunt.
Prophecy runs in the blood;
Elizabeth wept
before she heard the crying voice.
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