Wind, wind,
you come from nothingness and go to nothingness,
and when you are still,
there is nothing we see, nothing we hear,
and you surround us in our not seeing and not knowing.

Wild, wild wind,
you whip the seas, whirling great water spouts and fountains,
crashing on the foamed edges of the shore,
sweeping the unsuspecting fisherman from the slippery rocks,
terrifying force, uncontrollable, beyond our power.

O wind, piercing wind,
driving the blizzard, the sleet, the rain,
trampling earth with wild tempests and tantrums
that uproot trees, unroof houses and wreak devastation in your path.

Wind, wind, wondrous wind,
hovering at the birth of creation,
whisking secretly among the wonders of new life,
bearing the seed, lifting high the heads of mighty trees,
swirling among the grasses, celebrating life.

Wind, wind, we know your ways,
we trace your web on the map of highs and lows,
today’s weather, tomorrow’s predictions,
depressions and sea breezes,
we harness your power,
our weather cocks point to you,
a cross shows where you have been
and we do not know.

O wind, O silent wind,
where do you go?
Do you go away and play,
in outback gorges or bare mountains of the desert,
stirring small clouds of red dust among the bushes,
kissing the rippled smile of the billabong,
running down the slopes, exulting at the rock face,
passing by the mountain with none to see
and none to know your trail.

Wind, gentle wind,
wind of our breathing, our life, our hope,
renewing, refreshing,
sighing in our stress,
moaning in our pain,
still in our dying.

O wind, wind,
you breathed upon the clay and there was life,
you danced down to the forehead of a Galilean
and there was hope,
you shook the foundations of community
and there was Pentecost.

Wind of nothingness and awe,
wind of knowing and unknowing,
wind of bearing and begetting,
wind of secrets and mystery,
O wise, wise wind,
whisper to us your grace.

by William Loader