Wind in the Locked Room

by The Devotional Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

We had closed every window and called our fear prudence. Still the Spirit came— not as decoration, but breath enough to send us back toward the street. The papers lifted. The flame held without consuming. Languages crossed the room and no one voice became the owner. What entered could not be stored. By evening, the door stood open and our careful silence was gone.
64 words · 13 lines · Free Verse
Holy SpiritPentecostmissionimagerysymbolismcontrastfree-verse

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