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pentecost - michael rickelton lyrics

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neither the sorrows of afternoon, waiting in the silent house
nor the night no sleep relieves, when memory
repeats its prosecution

nor the morning’s ache for dream’s illusion, nor any prayers
improvised to an unknowable god
can extinguish the flame

we are not as we were. death has been our pentecost
and our innocence consumed by these implacable
tongues of fire

comfort me with stones. quench my thirst with sand
i offer you this scarred and guilty hand
until others mix our ashes

- michael rickelton lyrics

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