Fragments from a nation,

pieces of whole,

the maker of these artifacts

was a living soul.

How I have often wondered

while alone out in the breeze,

does anyone remember

the hands that fashioned these?

Then the wind will answer

“I knew him from the womb,

loved him every moment

far beyond his lonesome tomb.

I knew his secret joys,

his fears, his every thought,

all that pertained to life and death,

from me the man was taught.”

To the Wind each life is precious,

God’s Holy Spirit is the same.

He beckons to each one of us

ever calls us by our name.

John 3:6-8  That which is born of the

flesh is flesh, and that which is born of

the Spirit is Spirit.  Do not marvel that I

said to you, ” You must be born again.”

The wind blows where it wishes and

you hear the sound of it, but do not

know where it comes from and where

it is going, so is everyone who is born

of the Spirit.