Spirit of the living God.
my mind, in full rupture, unstable, imprisoned by itself, darkness surrounds me My God, my God, why, why, why! Yet my soul shouts out, life support God is within, not with holding, but holding as mighty oak. Holding in steadfast, gather me in re-member me back from fragmented body, mind, and soul. call me beloved, if that’s what I am whisper peace into my anxiety, shalom me into that state of wholeness, my scars, to tell a redemptive story, of those once opened bloody wounds. Spirit of the living God, full afresh on me.
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bulrushes blown by the wind,
white feathers exploding from within, drifting off, held and nurtured by the wind, the breath of God. the bulrushes being blown like candles at the end of a service smoke permeating the air around, getting caught up in the air pungency getting diluted as it travels where it wills. following in the stream made by the Wild spirit of God. |
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