Ed Happ wrote a beautiful poem about our Pentecost service on Sunday and was willing to share it with us all. Thank you, Ed.

There is no rain in the forecast
but the clouds say otherwise
the breeze rustles with intent,
I would think not if, but when.

The young boy stays back
as the others run forward
to the priest who has sat down
in their midst
with blocks and figures from
the Pentecost story,
she begins.
His mother having accompanied
a younger sibling
into the story
turns and crooks her finger
to the one behind
then comes halfway back
and holds out her hand,
he will not accept.
Only when the number grows
does his curiosity
win over his tentative stance;
he comes on his own terms
and rather than enter the inner circle
sits in the first row
and watches,
like we readers of the text
looking over the shoulders of the blessed 

and wait for it to rain.

Ed Happ, 5-Jun-22

Image by Michelle Raponi from Pixabay