I think of baptism

each time

I leave pans

to soak 

I think of baptism

it is morning 

and last night

I did not want 

to wrestle and scour

stubborn stuck bits

so I left the pan

in a sink full

of sudsy water

in the dark kitchen

to sleep

now

the stuck and stubborn 

bits do not 

put up the fight 

they had in them 

when they seemed unyielding

intransigent 

--they wash away easily

and I think of being

dunked in the river

the hopeful lined up 

in the hot sun waiting

their stubborn bits

already mellowing 

at the promise of how

water dissolves our edges

since we are mostly water

on a planet mostly water

so much of it salty

and how much depends

on the salt water flowing 

down my face

washing away the 

stubborn stuck bits

the ocean I carry inside

ready to baptize me 

into the world's ocean