 | |
| Pileated Woodpecker |
The Call of the Wild
I had just stepped outside this morning to b-r-e-a-t-h-e in the morning---when I heard a very familiar call overhead, not once, twice but several times that unmistakable call of the Pileated woodpecker. I scanned the upper limbs of the trees--the bird had to be there somewhere! Then with a flash of bright red color, the bird took off. These magnificent birds are larger than a crow, and the largest of woodpeckers. I am glad my dentist does not have a drill the size of its bill! Get a good idea of the size by comparing the bird in human hands.
The Whisper of the Spirit
So I ask myself--would I recognize the whisperings, the movements of the Holy Spirit? I'd describe it "like perfume passing under your nose--you just know it--and no explanation is needed." Always it is the silent approach of the Spirit who finds me and speaks tenderly with the unmistakable Voice.
In his poem, Heart of Autumn, Robert Penn Warren captures the heart of the feeling I have in the presence of the Spirit.
And my heart is impacted with a fierce impulse
To unwordable utterance--
No comments:
Post a Comment