by Philip Fortune
About eighty people came;
some said a line or two,
and never came again to any other do.
And never came again to any other do,
except those forty few
into everything already,
and all things bright and new.
Their disparate words collected,
concatenated and collated,
formed the basis of a message
needing nothing but coherence.
This much acclaimed achievement,
which discerned our very need,
had commenced a definite process
in the Parish of my dreams.
The message, coordinated,
was exulted and exploited
out of every recognition.
We had gained a power-movement
which would last forever and ever
called a Parish Listening Experience!
But … Can it ? Did it ? Was it ?
Well—
not quite the way I said it
did the Holy Spirit move us—
but His breath was really present
in the last dim-room reflections,
and His fire was on our faces
in our friendlier acquaintance,
as we switched the lights for candles
and prayed for all our neighbours.
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