The wind blows where it pleases
Sometimes barely breathing
-hardly moving the tender grass
Sometimes raging
-bowing the trees like penitents
But no-one knows where it blows from
Or the place it now is heading
So it is with you, child of the Living God
So give yourself to the wild winds of the Spirit
Ride them like a Storm Petrel
Inches from a dancing sea
Held in the curl of creation
Full of the joy of it all
From John 3 7-9
this fragile tent 
Thanks Chris – a stunning poem (and a great picture to boot!). I haven’t written for ages and need to start – it has the potential to give so much life….
Got a wee taste of Benmore at the weekend when I was up for a family ‘do’. Not enough though. Just downloaded the meditation from Proost – lovely to hear home voices and home sounds as well as being a fab resource (my current church is going to be using it at some point,,,,,).
Ali
Why thanks Ali!
Sorry to have missed you on your journey back ‘home’
Chris
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