Unseen

Billowing clouds of grey

Sweeping their way across the cold bare plains

Across the distant hills,

Harbinger of frosty winter winds.

Little rays of light escaping through the dark expanse,

Thin prairie grass bending under the howling gush.

I am alone.

In the midst I face the wind,

My hands outstretched as if to welcome.

Unseen, tugging at me,

Whispering in my ears, caressing my hair.

I look around; leaves rustle and whole branches strain,

I feel the effects of

That I cannot see.

A moment of silence.

The clouds on their silent journey continue;

A burning fire in my heart.

For crossing the empty landscape You meet me;

Your gentle breath speaks the rumbling of a thousand war-chariots,

And in the vast company of heaven’s angels

I am alone

with You.

Wesley L Cheong (Urbana, Illinois)

November 14, 1998