Waiting on the Spirit

‘I have said these things to you to keep you from stumbling. They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, an hour is coming when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship to God. And they will do this because they have not known the Father or me. But I have said these things to you so that when their hour comes you may remember that I told you about them. I did not say these things to you from the beginning, because I was with you. But now I am going to him who sent me; yet none of you asks me, “Where are you going?” But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts. Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgement: about sin, because they do not believe in me; about righteousness, because I am going to the Father and you will see me no longer; about judgement, because the ruler of this world has been condemned. I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you. John 16:1-15

Waiting on the Spirit

The rain poured over and down
roof line awash with streams water
in motion deep dark clouds thunder
announcing near lightning counting
one two these flashes are way too near
a dog quivers under the bed I consider
joining her.

It is dark and damp yeasty air
and I wait huddled and soaked
for some clearing some sun
an abating of the deluge
I am waiting in the deep shadows
for some promise of spirit
some wind or breath that brings
new life.

The garden soil is black with water
the earth sodden, drenched spouting
with each step, everything is gooey
heavy with the water that surrounds us
and yet stillness and rigid lives
no change on the horizon we can see.

The ocean aches for the moon as I
long for the spirit, new life, new breath
new sight and new strength.

I am weary from waiting, from isolation
from nights of worry and anxious dreams
I am ready for the comfort of a new dream
for tomorrow.