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In the spirit, a whispered story,
Its path unknown, yet voice brings glory. Unseen, it moves with great might, A fleeting purpose, the silent night. So too, the soul, reborn divine, Moves unseen, a sacred sign. From where it comes and where it goes, Beyond human comprehension, its essence glows. We, born of spirit, in flight, Invisible breath, in the night. We soar and sing, There, our souls take wing. Mystery unfolds apart from flesh, A riddle unsolved, its depths at rest. Unable to apprehend, unable to see, The spirit's journey, God’s mystery. John 3:8 (NASB 1995) |
POEMS
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