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Pentecost Sunday
 
In Jerusalem
high winds circled the house,
a roaring
caught all attention.
Light broke out,
tongues of flame
lit the disciples
and the world.
 
In Grand Haven
high winds blew off the Lake,
roared like a train
without warning of whistle.
Trees caught by tendrils of air
lifted and smashed
thrown like toys.
Trailers on the beach
spun and tumbled
like children's blocks.
Light died
as miles of wire
tangled and jumbled,
pulled down
and power cut
by knifing wind.
Thousands
held in darkness
that lasted days.
 
Still,
I slept
expecting to awake
and celebrate
like Jerusalem.
by James Mitchell
James Mitchell is a therapist residing in Grand Haven, MI. He has published several poems including three previous in the Northern Michigan Journal. He writes that he really meant to get this to us for the last issue. We don't mind....

Though we are as yet unable to pay for them, the Northern Michigan Journal welcomes your poetry submissions. Please e-mail in plain text format to nmj@leelanau.com. If you have a home page or any biographical information, please include that as well.
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