In life, we’re met with gentle breezes, signs
That life is full of movement. Summer heat
Is broken by a cool front, and the pines
Carpet the earth with needles, catching sweet-
Est melodies as wind sings through their limbs.
But not all winds blow gently. Some appear
With power unapproachable, like hymns
Writ out of holy fear: we turn the ear
And close the mouth. We know our smallness well
Before the hurricane and Harmattan,
And like the sailors frightened by the swell,
We run for help to power’s paragon,
The man who has become our hope and peace,
The God in flesh who makes the storm-winds cease.

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Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash