Visions of Mexico
I crossed into Mexico like a child,
bathing in the waters of innocence,
baptized by night in a nameless river.
A thousand bloody acts rinsed from memory,
I woke with the long-sought will to worship,
face-to-face with God himself in Eden.
Mexico become my private Eden--
a thousand tales of beauty for my child,
and the presence of He whom all men worship:
whose mercy sent me forth in innocence,
and strength for the far side of the river.
Mexico moves me like a river,
urging me to make this nation Eden;
bringing Christ to mind with every memory;
giving the lion-like heart of a child
which will fight fearlessly for innocence,
and which snarls out truth and roars God’s worship.
In Mexico I lay prone to worship;
found love and mercy beside a river;
put off my sins to wear His innocence;
had Christ touch my heart and show me Eden;
admired the sky with the eyes of a child;
and pressed the face of Love into memory.
Visions of Mexico haunt my memory
with inspired shivers each time I worship.
I strive for words to explain to my child
the voice I hear from each quiet river;
how calm nights whisper, “This too is Eden”;
how day breaks like a call to innocence.
Mexico holds the hope of innocence.
blessed when I live with the wonder of Eden;
cleansed when I confess, repent, and worship;
saved when I leave my life in the river
to be born again with the faith of a child.
I follow a river back towards Eden,
purge foul memory with liquid innocence,
kneel to worship, and arise God’s own child.