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,
Photograph by Luca Zanon via Unsplash. Used with permission.