Perhaps it is a wind that blows,
A whisper in the air,
A movement, yes, yet more that flows
Amid my soul’s dark lair.


Perhaps it is a voice that sings
A melody and rhyme,
Accompanied by skillful strings
And keeping perfect time.


Perhaps it is a feeling deep,
Emotions unexplained,
Or maybe too a need to weep
For fiendish lures that feigned.

Emotions 1

So by what means should I discern
This penetrating surge,
For it could brighten or could burn,
This mystifying urge?


Can this be something natural
Or from beyond this world?
If good and supernatural,
My heart’s a sail unfurled.


The Holy Spirit some do claim,
Imposing what they willed,
Attributing to God the blame,
But with themselves they’re filled.


Yet surely, You are Love and Lord.
Your Light unseen has shone.
To gather us in one accord,
You make Your Presence known.

The Event of Pentecost

Imparting secrets as my Friend,
You give Yourself to me.
For You as well my life I spend,
Approaching purity.

The “Third” they say, but I the “First,”
The Person here with me,
To guide and guard against the worst,
Espousing fealty.