By wind’s pillar of cloud, by flame’s column of fire, do we live and move toward journey’s unseen home.
We are coming from slavery, yet with bones grown accustomed to imperial protection.
Whose memory shall we privilege; whose purpose confirm?
Whose story will be recited; whose providence trusted?
Can the bones of Joseph shield from Pharaoh’s seductive reach?
Will the allure of indentured ease o’erpower the risk of freedom’s risk?
Wind’s pillar by day, flame’s column by night, guide hearts in this fray, scatter languishing fright.
Who will feed in the desert? Who will quench thirst’s regret?
Can trembling bones be comforted? Shall crushed marrow rejoice?
Roar, you Pentecostal Wind! Alight, you tongues of fire!
Breach the bulwark of captive bondage;
Kindle slavery’s funeral pyre!
©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Exodus 13:17-22 & the story of Pentecost in Acts 2.