Days in the doldrums —
No breath of air —
Heat hanging like limp hair.
Is this our fate?
To sit paralyzed by hate,
Unable to move?
Or will we let the Spirit’s breath,
Like freshening breeze,
Cool hearts oppressed by dread dis-ease,
And so bring deepening love?
How can we move
Without His power?
The darkest hour
Is brightened by
The Spirit’s power.
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