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.

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