White Sunday of Pentecosta

they are born again
age of grace descends
like burning tongues /feast
of the weaks /white sunday
harvest of the fiery spirit/
third hour of the day tongues
born baptised by fire/ in the sacred
room they drink his blood the new
covenant and eat his body as bread
they are waiting for the rapture before
the judgement and the kingdom for a mi-
llenium /we hide under the black table of lov
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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