The Wind

Some days there’s a soothing presence
that moves in my mind
like a gentle breeze on a hot day,
a slight rustling in the cottonwood
that says “there will be peace and goodness.”

Some days there’s a stirring
that bends the stems,
a deep swaying of a prophet’s heart
that could send him into the very palace
speaking angry and ancient mutterings
of judgment and wrath.

Some days there’s a storm,
a raging of broken branches,
brittle leaves ripped from trees
and sent scattering
across yards and fields,
caught against the black-splintered rails
of untended fences.

Some days there’s a dead silence,
a crippling stillness,
an absence of nearness to anyone or anything,
days when boulders could fall into the abyss
and make not a single ripple.

Those are the days that scare me,
the days when I rely most
on knowing the Hand I cannot feel,
the God Whose Presence does not depend
on my sensing.

H. Arnett
7/8/13

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Blair, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-five years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-one grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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