On my drive tonight, I thought of how life enters us (life in this world).
They say that God moves on the Wind, and I believe, for it is written in the account of Moses on the Rock.
Life in this world enters our breast with that first breath, like icey steel that stings untested, fleshy lung - pink, and as new to this world as our young eyes.
Clarity of sight enters, and life with each new breath...a breath of the wind that is a part of God Himself (for it is on it that He moves).
Does the wind belong to any man?
No more than the breath...captured but for an instant and can only be held so long before it must be returned to rigthful owner before seaking another, anew.
Can we say that it is our last, or our first, something that is never, really ours at all?
It is the breath of this life, a life in a temple that we borrow, for a time and in time returns.
And while life on this side of the womb relies on that intial breath from God (and thus sustained), there is a life before where no wind would move within watery orb, yet the life it was of another realm.
And before, another realm still.
The life perpetuates through constant winds, and water and wave.
And in that time before eyespot and tiny brain stem, there was life then too.
Now the soul, tis true, is ours to hold, but the wise return gift-for-gift to the palm of old, the rider of wind, the Father, foretold.
In the end it returns to that from which it was so well recieved, and the life itself protected eternal from both wind and wave by the gentle hand of the Three that are One.
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2 comments:
This thing is danged close to nature worship...I shore hope that's not what's intended?
Oh... nature worship seems far from Standifer's intent - I'm more concerned about the idea of the soul existing before conception, which, if accurately extracted from this piece, would imply a certain hindu "uncreated soul". It's certainly one thing to recognize "before I created you in the womb, I knew you," which is consistent with God's atemporality, but quite another to assert "before you were in the womb, you existed," which carries with it some unsavory implications.
Nevertheless, this piece is nicely written. I continue to enjoy Standifer's habit of blending poetry in his prose, particularly in the line:
"Now the soul, tis true, is ours to hold, but the wise return gift-for-gift to the palm of old, the rider of wind, the Father, foretold."
Finally, as for nature worship, animism, or anything of the sort, this seems much tamer than St. Francis' Canticle of the Creatures or Canticle of the Sun, and uses the time honored symbol of the wind to represent the Holy Spirit.
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