Wind Series – Part 5

Beyond the Jordan,
like a burning glacier,
God’s way is fierce and clear.
(Matthew 3:13)

Rapids roar,
yet my hands lift eastward in prayer.
Time may falter,
but the will of the Lord does not sway.

Righteousness is not buried—
it breathes,
alive,
rising within me.

My throat a chimney,
the wind rests upon the mountain,
returns,
enters my chest again.
(Romans 3:10–18)
The Spirit’s breath takes root inside me.

Not far away,
a young woman sits,
holding a man’s shoes,
lifting a quiet weeping toward heaven.
Her cry becomes prayer,
her prayer touches the sky.

Even in alleys of the city,
in shattered designs,
the hand of God rebuilds
order and relation.

The wind of direction returns,
time condenses.
In that condensation,
we stretch out our hands to one another.

Through the valley of death
a pale figure walks toward light.
Even the hollow sound of the city
ascends as prayer.

Beyond the concave lens,
beyond hollow objectivity—
faith still stands,
faith is with us.

© TaeHun Yoon, 1969