Our eyes sting 
From the smoke
From the fires of fear
Stoked by the fuels
Of intention
And injustice
We cannot escape
The acrid vapor
It follows 
As we move
CoverIng our faces
Turning our backs
Only for a moment
The smog of foreboding
Hangs still
All around

We need a fresh wind
Fight fire with fire
The rush of the Spirit
And the clean burning flames
Of Pentecost
Will let us breathe
Come Holy Spirit
Use your Church
To clear the air

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