Pentecost Again
Day of Pentecost; Acts 2:1-4
I’m no great fan of wind –
it shakes me loose like autumn leaves
until I feel unnerved, thin skinned,
and something wistful grieves.
Yet blow here, Spirit gale,
break into comfort, shake the walls
that shelter those afraid to fail
who hide when challenge calls.
I’m half afraid of flame –
too often burnt or left with ash;
with hot emotions much the same –
I flare, then quickly crash.
Let Spirit fire alight
upon my head and in my heart,
so words I write and share burn bright
where Spirit fires might start.
Blow wind so flame will flare
and lamps and candles catch the spark.
Who knows what words and art might dare?
Their light disperses dark.
We need to feel the breeze,
to light our campfires on the earth
and gather round in warmth and ease
in hopes of mirth or birth.
Barbara Messner 18/05/2026
Barb, poet priest 