Praise… For Our Brother The Wind

The wind is the hand that weaves a pattern in the cloud loom of sky. The wind is moving air with purpose, it is the way of changing weather. Ships may sail by other means but clouds move only on the soft or surging zephyrs of the wind. Rain clouds rise and spread their sail and winds carry them across the earth. The mantle of the snowflakes comes on the fairy wings of wind. The wind is first to redistribute heat and moisture. The winds carry pollen grains of oak and pine and sow the seed of grass. Flowers find their mating in the sweet caress of wind.

The wind has turned the grinding stone, lifted water and separated chaff from grain. The wind has turned the history of man's world and wind is here because of air and changing temperature and the sure miracle of day and night. There is no wrath in wind, there is only the need for strong measure. For every tempest there are many breezes. There is a breeze to cool the brow and refresh the air like running water. The giant organ of the trees responds to wind and the chorus in a forest is the softly singing wind. The first lullaby was the voice of the blowing wind.