Was that you,
that gentle wind in the trees that sway,
the wind that cools the shadows
on a steamy summer day?
Was that your breath, a soothing message from you
that moves the grains of wheat.
The devil has breath too,
and when it comes it breaks
the tall trees in two,
it rips and rages, destroying the old,
makes nothing new.
Father, thank you for your breath
that relieves us from the summer heat.
From A Year of Prayers by Jack Bartlett
