Let Every Departure Be Pentecost
A Sending Poem for Fire-Hearted Ones
Sarah Skinner, Kaleidoscope Institute, May 2025
Earlier this week, we shared a poetic reflection on welcome—on what it means to be received fully, with nothing left at the threshold.
What happens when all of you is welcomed in?
Tonight’s poem is a sending.
Because even when it’s time to check out—
when the sanctuary quiets and the circle unclasps—
welcome doesn’t expire.
Love keeps rippling outward.
This poem is a call to Pentecost.
To fire-hearted departure.
To love as the simplest language.
Let Every Departure Be Pentecost
A poem for the ones who still carry fire
(by Sarah Skinner)
Listen, loves—
Here is what the Holy One whispered
as I turned off the lights:
“The church is not the sanctuary,
it’s the song that lingers after the doors close.
It’s the last glance back at the mountain
when your shoes are already covered in dust.
It’s the moment you turn toward the world again,
but your shoulders carry something holy.”
So with you,
let there be light.
In you,
let there be lightness.
Within your shoulders,
the memory of wing-pressed joy.
Beside you,
still.
Tomorrow, checkout is at 11 AM—
but your welcome never expires.
The hymns may be quiet,
but you’ll hear them anyway.
The lights are off, the candles cold,
but there—
a flash of fire in the stained glass.
The dancers are going home,
but the circle is unbroken.
The Holy One is still at the center, humming—
hands going: snap clap, snap clap clap.
Our pathway is parting—
but love is eternal,
and never travels in a straight line.
Let the love of the Holy One be like a ripple widening,
especially when the waters are troubled.
Let the church make ripples.
Let every departure be Pentecost.
Let’s say: “Ready when you are.”
Let’s walk this out as Pentecost people—
fire-hearted,
joy-lit,
unafraid.
Love is the simplest language.
My palm is not pressed to yours in farewell,
but in promise.
You are still writing this story.
We are still writing the story—
pen in one hand,
the Holy One’s fingers curled in the other.
Let every line be love.
Let every line be mercy.
Let each word be living.
And remember:
Return.
Go in peace. You are loved.