After Acts 8:4-8
Forced to flee, he finds himself
in that place where the one met
the woman at the well. It remains
a halfway kind of place, believing
half of this and half of that,
a hodgepodge of scrolls and idols
and superstition. Even in his fear
and his near brush with chains,
he speaks, he preaches, he performs
signs. And they listen, as if they
are one body, in one accord, and
they see the unclean spirits
screaming in the pain of discovery
and identification, abandon
the human habitats, and they see
the paralyzed and lame suddenly
healed, and the crowd in one accord
knows what they are seeing is
not of this earth, and the idols
and the superstitions fall and
melt away, replaced by great joy.
Photograph by Pablo Heimplatz via Unsplash. Used with permission.
Another amazing poem, Glynn. Thank you!
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