After Acts 2:1-8
The wind rushed
in violence,
a scouring, dust
flying and blinding
our eyes,
pouring over us like
blood invisible
but heard, the sound
of filling and
the sound of fear, and awe.
As it flowed
around and into,
as it streamed
within to without,
a pouring of
voices, words, languages
erupting from an
inner unknown,
strange words
and sounds pouring
over those
assembled in expectation,
over those told
to wait,
but never
expecting this wind,
this rushing,
this violence, this flame,
this
transformation.
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