Pentecost Sunday

Blowing, flowing was the wind
as I thought of your mighty power

Hailing, flailing was the life
as I prayed for a peaceful final hour

We were drunk on the chaos
the unmeasureable richness and glee
of your breath

The breath that inhabits
and caresses and
presses our emotions
to rise through our eyes
to drain our tears colored like
joy, peace, gentleness, kindness,
faithfulness, and self-control.

Nail Scarred

In the hollow of a hand
I stand
Under my feet are written
a name
engraved, etched in a palm
in pain
When I leap out
and flee
and stand alone
upon the earth