The Wind…you don’t know where it comes from, you don’t know where it’s going…so is every person who is born of the Spirit. Philip Yancey has a book, “Rumors of Another World”…Bruce Cockburn has a song, “Rumors of Glory” both speaking to the penetration into this world that seems to us so real, so solid, so torn…of something else, a taste barely tangible yet lingering, a glimpse that escapes our direct look, something about freedom…and forgiveness, or was it a ’surprise by Joy’, illusive and exquisite. The world of cause slipping in and out of this dimension of effect, leaving behind a trace, a tear, a touch, a whisper, a soft pain, a longing. This world tries so desperately to dispel these rumors, whether with barbwire or acid verbs, but how can you stop the wind? You can only know it was here because it rustled the leaves and kissed your cheek as He blew by.
Breathe in me…deep
That I might breathe…and live
And hold me close that I might sleep
Soft held by all you give
Come kiss me wind
And take my breath
Till you and I are one
And we will dance among the tombs
Until all death is gone
And no one knows that we exist
Wrapped in each other’s arms
Except the One who blew the breath
That hides me safe from harm
Come kiss me wind
And take my breath
Till you and I are one
And we will dance among the tombs
Until all death is gone
