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