American Pentecost

We are white and Black, my Lord,
and every color seen,
Native, or just from the port,
new money and has-been,
colonizer, unwashed horde,
and all things in-between,
yet we hear your holy Word,
and we know what you mean.

How is it that you speak to us
in every language known?
We are torn, Lord, each of us
from every other one.
When you came to preach you,
we made the cross your throne;
still you see and reach for us
through all divisions sown.

Sow again your piercing seed
and harrow up our earth;
show again the grace we glean
by springing up to serve.
Flourished wheat and sprouting weed
to you have precious worth:
Turn us all a springtime green,
the color of new birth.
By Niccolò da Bologna – http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=254371, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1977717

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