Standing under lightning and thunder
and the urge to close my eyes
and hold my breath.
I have to move; I have to breathe.
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Where can I go from Your Presence?
I'm next to Ezekiel--carried up in the Spirit,
facedown as the temple is filled; on my side
for days on end.
I watch the Prince's gate--the East door
and worship at the threshold.
Next time I'll go in; I promise.
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