Poetry

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LISTEN TO THE WIND

Are you listening, really listening
to the wind?
The Spirit whispers, like the wind;
not the howling gale of winter storms
that rage in your soul;
the guilt, the shame, the fears
that freeze hope,
drown love,
murder joy;
but the gentle zephyr
that whispers softly, “Come home to Daddy,
“He’s waiting for you.”

Why did your run from Daddy?
Did your daddy betray your trust,
slap your hands when you just wanted to say
how sorry you were
for hurting him,
turn away when you needed help,
advice,
love,
just a hug to let you know he cared?

Perhaps your daddy didn’t know
how to be a daddy
because his daddy didn’t know
how to be a daddy.....either.

The breeze is blowing, calling....again,
sighing through your heart,
“Daddy’s calling,
The place in His heart reserved for you
Is empty
Until you come home.”

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