The Coming Of The Holy Spirit Poem by james watkin

1/ In Trepidation

Its lightning will imprint our shock
Upon a sky of our guilt's
Immediate avowal: "that face
Still in anguish pleading tilts"!

Its burning flash will our terror
Engrave above the darkling
World of confessions woke: " that wound
A chasm of long suffering"

2/In Exhaltation

A hush of a morning
Of breathed in awe
When God is re-born in
Heart's realm of shades.

A storm of wings' uplift
Of release, aired
When fragrant mercies drift
In hope's void glades.