The Holy Spirit, that elusive presence;
Who can pin it down?
Like a fragile butterfly captured in mid flight
and pinned to a cardboard.
Who would want to do that?
Or a pin on a map, marking a place;
Here it is; that's the spot!
No, it's not.
Who can pin it down?
Like a fragile butterfly captured in mid flight
and pinned to a cardboard.
Who would want to do that?
Or a pin on a map, marking a place;
Here it is; that's the spot!
No, it's not.
Rather like the feathery tendrils of smoke from a candle
weaving in and among us.
Or sometimes like the billowing clouds of smoke from a raging campfire
chasing us to and fro
or inviting us to bask in the light of the flames reaching heavenward.
weaving in and among us.
Or sometimes like the billowing clouds of smoke from a raging campfire
chasing us to and fro
or inviting us to bask in the light of the flames reaching heavenward.
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