by Carolyn Westendorf
I
I am
I am is coming
He is coming
But I
am the voice in a dry, desert place
Proclaiming his coming
Make way for the great I am
The God of old
Lamb of God
Bread of life
living water
Do your taste buds dance at the sound?
He comes to speak to you
Deliver you from your sin
To free you
He comes to fulfill every desire within you
I am not his voice
A servant does not have the honor
I could not untie his sandals
A servant unworthy to serve
The one who washes his friend’s feet
Who would make himself lowly
To raise others up
I prepare the people’s heart
Baptize into something new
With the same old water we drink
But when he comes
he will baptize them
With the spirit dwelling inside
No one has seen this