There is the fire of Pentecost
Which warms our words,
In smouldering love for You, Lord,
Our risen, our glorified Lord.
We burn for the brightness of Your light,
For the dancing flames of Your touch,
For the awesome sacrifice
Which ended the darkness of the tomb.
In the heat of Pentecost fires,
Ignite our prayers for You, Lord,
Catch the paper hymns
That sing on endless days.
The fires burn and cleanse,
Our raw selves, Lord, are Yours.