Atmosphere

For ‘In him we live and move and have our being,’^* as even some of your poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’
Acts 17:28

In you we live and move and are,
but see you less than air.
We grope, although you are not far,
as wind that stirs our hair.

We move in you as you us,
the breath that fills our lungs
and stirs again this lifeless dust
'til we cry out in tongues.

And if you take that breath away,
then dust to dust returns
'til branches in your breezes sway
and embers once more burn.

O God, you are the atmosphere
that shapes and holds our lives.
We could not be, were you not here:
You are, and we survive.

Teach us the wonder of our breath;
suffuse into our blood
your being—oh, your very self—
Breathe life into our mud.

And hold our every panting gasp;
hold us when all breath fades.
Draw us into your winds that pass
beyond all hurricanes.

This wind turbine generates electricity from wind power. By Wagner Christian – Own work, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=958801

Creator Spirit

When the time for Pentecost was fulfilled,
they were all in one place together.
And suddenly there came from the sky
a noise like a strong driving wind,
and it filled the entire house in which they were.
Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire,
which parted and came to rest on each one of them.
And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit
and began to speak in different tongues,
as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim.
Acts 2:1-11

Creator Spirit, God's outrushing breath,
the mighty wind that stirs our little dust,
blow once again and lift us out of death.
Breathe in us still, the very air we trust.

In you we live; in you we move and are,
and yet you move in us: You fill our lungs.
You fire our minds.  You thunder in our hearts.
We breathe you out as music on our tongues.

You fill our bodies: Fill the one we make
as hands and feet of Christ sent to the field.
Come, blow in every breath his body takes.
Renew the whole, and let each part be healed.

O gift of God, come sanctify our gifts.
As we present them, may we be transformed.
Come make of us Christ's hands that upward lift;
we will become Christ's bread for all the world.  Amen.

Ingeborg Psalter 02f 1200 (cropped) Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=106666589

Breath

You spoke my name, and I began;
you breathed your life into my clay,
and by that breath alone, I am:
a word you've chosen still to say.

Not mine alone, but your breaths, too,
from that first cry in Bethlehem,
in every moment make me new—
and you alone can number them.

The widow's son and Lazarus
and Jairus' daughter lost in death:
You came to them (to all of us)
and gave them back the living breath.

You breathed your last upon the cross
and first again on Easter morn.
You sobbed and screamed through helplessness
as one of us since you were born.

My panting, gasping, choking days,
my yawns and drawn-out sighs of night:
You know them all, the songs of praise
and shouting at a world not right.

So let my every breath be yours,
for you have hallowed each of them,
and breathe upon me, living Lord,
that I may have your peace in them.