Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

What was it like to be in the Upper Room waiting for the day of Pentecost?


For many days the little band had stayed

Together, meeting daily in the room

While time grew heavy with a sense of doom,

And every moment that it was delayed

Seemed an eternity–but they obeyed.

To waver would be rudely to presume;

It seems they’d learned their lessons at the tomb,

So patiently they waited and they prayed.

That morning seemed no different, much the same . . . .

Then unexpectedly there came a sound,

A hurricane of wing beats, tongues of flame

Which blew them out into the streets around

Articulating praises to the Name,

When, swifter than a hawk, the Dove came down.

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD


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