At Pentecost

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Expectation hovered over them
as they, the believers there,
with their stories to tell,
and their memories to share….

Broke the bread and drank the wine
for a death that didn’t last,
sang the Psalms, spoke his words
from the three years past.

Squashed together in the upper room,
the rough with the refined,
their commonality their faith,
their joy the strongest bind.

A whistling cyclone filled the house
and as light as the touch of grace,
tongues of fire fell on their heads
and languages filled the place.

They spoke in tongues unknown,
of God and his wondrous ways;
the Spirit upon them, they spoke his words,
as prophesied for the last days.

The Church was born in that upper room
that Pentecost Sunday, that day,
Believing, accepting the message they heard
three thousand followed The Way.

Expectation turned to worship,
to boldness and to power,
that flowed out to the nations
from that place, from that hour.

© Copyright Ellen Carr 2017

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