Caravaggio’s St John the Baptist I walk through a darkened crypt past fading depictions of gospel scenes and suddenly there it is, not a prophet from the Judaean wilderness with fiery, uncompromising words but a slender youth rendered in exquisite truthfulness. He turns from his simple shepherd's task as if you've suddenly surprised him, a complex mixture of knowledge, amusement, confidence and shyness, a friendly, joyous gaze, as if the nuance of his mind in this single, fleeting moment has been caught in Caravaggio’s brush and effortlessly placed upon the canvas so we, who come to it after many centuries, can be transfixed by its beauty and truth and be privileged by the momentary glimpse into the mind of that boy and the transcendent power that captured it. Neil Creighton A longer, more narrative form of this poem appeared originally at Verse-Virtual. Neil Creighton is an Australian poet with a passion for social justice and a love of the natural world. Recent publications include "Poetry Quarterly", "Silver Birch Press", "Praxis Online", "South Florida Poetry Journal" and "Verse-Virtual", where he is a contributing editor. His poetry blog iswindofflowers.blogspot.com.au
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The Ekphrastic Review
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March 2025
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