The Spirit

Where does it come from, this chill that I’m feeling. This breeze that cuts right through me. I neither see it, or know where it’s coming from. I wrap my coat closer around me, but sill the cold Envelopes my very being. The wind moves me, and often pushes me in a direction, Reminding me of the spirit. The one Jesus sent to indwell in His followers, when he ascended into heaven. So long ago. Like the wind, I feel it, but I can’t see it. The spirit moves within my breast and often directs me. Pushing me in one direction or another, to do the will of the Father. I am so thankful to belong to the holy one. To be unified, in body and spirit in this present life, With the assurance that one day I will reside with the King of Host. At that time, I will have my answers. No longer will I wonder where the breeze is coming from. For I will be home.