Pentecost Morning

Pentecost Morning

Marjorie Maddox

-Acts, Ch. 2

Just 9:00 am
and this whirlwind entrance of Spirit
whipping dirt floors, walls, chairs

where they were sitting, these frightened
men, fifty days after His resurrection.

Still stunned
from the Ascension and now more awe
keeps their heads turning and turning, nose-

dive of whoosh, sudden spin of wind, circling
the leftover followers, a tatter of beliefs finally healing.

And then the Flame
untwining. Fanned by their astonishment, each flicker
rests on someone’s chest, rises in the lungs, swells

to a wildfire of words that escape through lips, a crescendo
of hallelujahs and warning bursting with dazzle.

Quickly, the crowds arrive.
Backwards Babel:
each foreign ear intercepting bright
sounds translated to their own understanding,

language another word for air that swoops in
with prophecy, In the last days, God says,

I will pour out my spirit
on all people....
Medes and Elamites How can this be? Parthians,
citizens of Mesopotamia, What does this mean?

Pontus and Asia, Are these men drunk?
Judea and Cappadocia, Egypt, Libya...

What shall we do?
Ingest the offered. Swallow spirit. Once a holy hurricane
enters the body, water prepares the willing,

the mortal purified by flame and sea. What good
are property, possessions? Sell everything and follow.
Repent and be baptized...

This is what it means to be taken by fire, to kiss
the flame of faith that engulfs the former dust-self
before the inferno flares up, before
the blaze of baptism leaps from their mouths
at 9:00 am.

---

Marjorie Maddox
Writer & Poet 

Marjorie has written fiction, children’s books, and numerous poetry collections, including True, False, None of the Above (Poiema/Cascade), Begin With a Question (Iron Pen), and her new book: In the Museum of My Daughter’s Mind (Shanti Arts).

Photography by Alessio Medini