Ode to John 3:8-9

The wind blows where it may –
how it musses my hair, it has no care.
I hear its sounds, its ricochet –
but how it’s understood, it will not say.
From where it comes and where it goes –
I cannot grasp, this great unknown.
Until that day I drop to my knees,
surrender my self with genuine pleas –
then and only then will my birth be in Life
flowing with the wind, each day and all nights.
How can this be, the wise one may query,
only through Me, comes the Voice from the tree.

WindIsLikeAHorse_Kate Esplen

Painting by Kate Esplen

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s