Some days just a feeling, a softness rising to my eyes
and the Spirit is present in tears that sit so still.
Other days I am blown back by the strength of this wind,
the force of a hurricane in the confines of my soul.
Most times, though, as a gentle breeze, the breath of God
gently ruffling my hair and softly calling to me.
Such a gentleness, such a strength -- these hands worn from work
but kept soft by Love's own caress.
The Spirit approaches us in as many ways as we pray:
always meeting us how we need to be met,
always meeting us with and in love.
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