POETRY: Poet: silent after Pentecost, by Luci Shaw

Poet: silent after Pentecost Luci Shaw

I who was thirsty, drank, was satisfied,
became myself a secondary source
of bubbling water—why
was my mouth still dry?

Brushed by dove’s feathers
heart and winging mind—
I who had felt flight dared to ask
when will my words fly?

His burning oil from crown
to feet had covered me.
I was a torch for lighting, for light
yet was my throat still dark.

The overwhelming rush,
the mighty wind wide-spread the blaze.
Yet from my tinder tongue
came not one spark.

Breasting the gusts of praise,
filled with the singing Word
and words, and still
no sound would come.

That Holy Breath, promised,
to teach lungs, larynx, lips
in a needed hour, told mine
until today, “Be dumb!”

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