Poem: Give Me Fire
I do not want a still small voice.
Give me fire,
a burning bush.
Let flames like tongues fall from the mouth of Heaven.
Give me Pentecost.
My mind is too wild to be settled by a whisper.
Send an earthquake
shake loose and cast down
broken earth, cracked ground.
Give me Jericho.
I have had enough silence.
Speak in the howling of a rushing wind
flood my ears with a clamoring tempest.
Give me ruah.
Do You see that I am jealous for You?
Is the fragrance of my desperation pleasing?
I have tasted and seen
now let me hear and feel.
God,
give me You.
–
Writer Bio:
Andrea Nwabuike is a mental health counselor and writer based in Toronto, Ontario. As a Nigerian-Canadian woman, Andrea's writing reflects her interest in the intersections of faith, race, ethnicity, and gender. Her writing has been featured in Ekstasis Magazine, Christianity Today and Love is Moving Magazine.
Photo by RF_Studio on Pexels.