Poem 16: Whispering Winds

Hear the
whispering winds
Cold frigid winds
Balmy? Soothing? No

The wind bits
The heat hits
Sharp as the needl’ point
Painful, biting, piercing

Next step
Where to, I ask
The blackness ahead
Is there a light, a beacon?

My eyes grow dim
Senses numb from hoping
Dull faculties, overstressed
Stress, burden, pressed down

Whispering winds
Whispers of comfort
The source same as
The breadth of life
Strength for tomorrow

Whispering winds
Fresh from above
Source? From a dove
Love sacrifice gave

Whispering winds, grace
Occluded in love
Fresh from above
Given to face the morrow

I receive,
Lord, I perceive
I acknowledge
Lord, I accept
I am refreshed by
whispering winds
Of Grace

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