The Wind of the Spirit

The wind blows wherever it wills Rustling leaves at its pleasure thrill Blowing at a fierce pace In the valley where we hardly trace   The wind blows where it wills It sweeps the top of the mulberry tree Leaves green fruits dropping in despair Denying birds the fragrance of the air The wind blows where it wills We feel it, hear it, and sense it Where it comes we do not know It wills where it wants to blow The Spirit blows upon His own mind A sound like a mighty rushing wind In ways we can't apprehend In tongues we can't comprehend   The Spirit blows with aura of awe He operates by His own laws Not where we want Him to flow No! we cannot constrain His glow   The wind of the Spirit blows to save Rekindles even dry bones out of graves He brings warmth and assuring power And fill us with dew like a morning flower