Harbinger
Note: I was raised in a rather harsh tradition way out in the back woods of Virginia. When I finally broke from it, I was told John would never have deigned to wash me clean, I was beyond saving. As such, I have taken some small liberties with the story of the Baptist to find the joy in his story and to honor the way our church speaks of him.
God decided to send a messenger and lo, John was born to the role
As soon as the child could speak, he made his purpose clear-
"Making way, making way."
And so he did just that, growing to manhood as he told everyone who'd listen
Of the marvel who was to come.
What you never hear is that John was actually a riot
Sure, he ended up with honey in his beard and callouses for shoes
And downwind, he was a calamity 'til he hit the river
But he roared with laughter born of certainty-
"He's near, he's coming, he's here, get ready!"
Knowing the inevitable end, he found those locusts delicious
Knowing the inevitable beginning, he practiced preaching to passing lizards
And lit up when he saw people walking to him from the city.
"Let go, let the water wash your sins away!"
John was a joy when he knew you were willing, his voice careening over the sand.
And then Jesus came, and John wept while laughing in the Jordan,
Knowing his work was done, the way had been made
"I'm nothing next to this one - I get you clean, he gets you into Heaven!"
Once the Lord was done talking, John chimed in:
"Son, I've known you since before we were born!"
Epilogue
You don't hear much about how it really ended, either-
He knew his would be a full stop as they marched him into the palace
Herod wouldn't look him in the eye, the ladies skittered to the shadows
As he was dragged in chains from the banquet, John hurled a raw-throated zinger:
"If you think I'm a pain in the neck, wait 'til you meet the next guy!"
The door thundered shut behind him as a single camel hair flitted on a draft
And landed, unnoticed, on Salomé's half-eaten lamb chop.
