A motley crew, we wait and pray. The Master's gone. We wished he'd stay. The Baptism, the promised power, is coming soon, the awaited hour. Pentecost. We're all together, A violent wind, noisy weather, blows inside, a mighty sound. Tongues of fire spread around, rest upon each person's head. Our voices speak, Spirit-led. We speak in words of unknown tongue, men and women, old and young. A traveller come from far away, hears his language on that day. He understands. The words are clear, a simple message to his ear. Jesus Saviour, Lord of all, great Messiah. Heed his call. Brother Peter takes the floor, tells the Good News, stirs up awe. Calls repentance. Be baptised. Receive the Spirit, the gift so prized. Thousands listen, turn around, to follow Jesus, freedom found. A Church explosion, mighty acts, prayer and praise. Amazing facts.
© Ellen Carr 2016
Posted by Pentecost | Lucy Thompson on 16/05/2016 at 10:32 am
[…] Source: Pentecost […]
Posted by dingo4mum on 16/05/2016 at 10:33 am
I love this poem! Sharing. 🙂
Posted by postboxpoetry on 16/05/2016 at 11:46 am
Thanks, Lucy, for wanting to share my poem. It’s a great compliment! Blessings, Ellen