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Showing posts with label The Winds of Pentecost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Winds of Pentecost. Show all posts

Friday, June 6, 2014

The Winds of Pentecost

1977 Lexington, Kentucky

By Susan Fox










The Word is come,
riding with the sons of thunder;
past the hills of crystal morning,
it flashes to the sea.
The Word is fire,
spoken in the sunrise;
it burns the living malice
of an old discarded flesh.  
It turns the rats
from the gutter,
bringing forth a clean Wind
against  an old sloth.

Call the Wind.
It comes,
struggles from a mouth
and repeats itself
in many languages.

The beggars of the earth
are deaf to thunder;
they sit with the fat rats
of the mighty gutter
and burn incense at their local altar.

We are unclean.
Go to the church and pray:
Weep for the dead lies
of our nations.

Together
we offer our hands;
In our lives,
the Word is finally spoken.