Baptism

THis might already be on here, but I am too lazy to look.

My witness is the empty sky
witness to a baptism
like coming of age
the brands of the burning world
only thickening the channels
of blue rivers running through my arms
only stocking strength in my hands
which used to be small, not mine,
but momma's to hold
and I'm scared of losing
my gentility, grace that stays
only with the desire to grow up
scared of growing big so I hurt,
big like I can't hold no elegance
and I'm set up to work in
coal and oil, corrosive,
set up to laugh like a machine
that grinds men's bones and years
but I don't want to live like that
I want to be barefoot and run,
no heavy boots on me,
I want to swim in God's blue rivers,
lay to rest in His big hands,
big with no want of elegance,
I want to live like I 
can't ever hurt anything,
just me and all the world,
with the empty sky my witness
and my friend, fields that can 
touch my hands like my momma,
and waters that can wash me clean,
baptism like running away