Sonnet To The Holy Ghost: 3

Apostles heard you rumble like the gospel caged:
a thrum like fourfold beasts in martial ranks
or Jordan bound a mile upstream, enraged,
and thrashing to and fro against her banks.
Apostles felt you set their hair on fire,
flash down provincial brainstems to their lungs
then up again as sermons sweet like lyre
but urgent as a seraph scrubbing tongues.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s