Words for Whitsun (Francis Edmunds, May 1975)

They sat all silent in the Upper Room,
Soul-benumbed and sorrow-laden,
Memories surging up within them.
Seeing, they had not seen,
Hearing, they had not heard,
Living in His Light,
They yet had groped in shadow,
And in the hour of darkest perfidy,
They all had fled.

They sat all silent in the Upper Room
The world was still
Save for the tumult in their anguished hearts.
Memories wrenched a channel through their souls,
He, the Risen One, had been with them,
Had walked and talked with them,
Had taught them, charged them,
Had brought them Light and Life and Love renewing,
Measure beyond measure—
And then had vanished.

They sat all silent in the Upper Room.
Bereaved, benighted, knowing not whence nor whither,
Torn with grief, adread with expectation,
Yet tender with the Light and Love new-given.
They sat all silent,
Watching, waiting.....waiting.

Sudden the heavens broke upon them,
The seven-fold lightnings flashed,
A whirlwind swept all darks asunder
And tongues of flame descended on them.

Baptized they were with Fire and the Holy Spirit
The Word of Christ was born in them.

And so they rose,
And went out to the multitude,
Disciples of Christ, His Life, His Life beyond Death,
Bearers of the Word to all mankind.