My Lord,
I spread my wings in this
My poor prayer.
I wait,
Trustingly, wait,
For You, My God
You come, hovering,
And then,
Like a breeze
Beneath my pinions,
Fill and lift me.
I rest on the Wind,
Knowing,
It is Your Spirit
Holding me aloft.
At Your invitation,
I rise,
Ever higher,
Resting on the Wind.
Hugging Your hallowed Presence,
I can simply be,
Knowing,
You know me.
It is the silence of my heart,
That dares speak,
As soaring,
Without effort,
I hear Your Silence,
Your knowing,
Loving,
Silence.
© Joann Nelander
Be Holy! 