I shout,
   I inveigh,
      I accuse the gust,
         the breath that feels so cruel on my neck.

Climbing,
   uphill,
      feeling the pain in each muscle,
         I cry, scream, and weep.

‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Matthew 25:46b NRSV)

Finally, sitting on wall’s edge,
   I peer down at the waters below.

The very breath of God,
   sweeps across its surface,
      right,
         left,
            east,
               and south.

From the risky rocks,
   I get a glimpse of the sacred directors’ movements,

May I trust the breath that gently encourages us,
   to choose the choreography of love,
      even when we feel but one inexplicable gust.