It is not I but God,the spirit
bellowing through me
pushing , tossing , proding.
Unrelentless.
Gentle as a whisper on a child's cheek
awesome as a windmill drawing water from the dirt
lifting. sailing. soaring
Carried toward a new and glorious place and time.
I must bow to His call......even for a time,
A sacred spear of life in total turmoil with itself...
.needs a carver to chisel down the layers of grief and misunderstandings.
Can I be the chisel or am I that which is to be chiseled.
crack me open......
help me mine the perfect peace that comes from
knowing God.
Fill me with passion and presence
so I overflow with need to embrace the spirit
and spill that embrace into the world.
Three angels stand at my door.
hope in a place that is hopeless
hunger in a world that is filled
Love that joins hands across the border.
I embrace....I become......I am the tear on Gods dear cheek.
I have no choice but to listen...I am because God is.