Fresh Air

To live on air is a wondrous thing. Imagine the air, the sweet and fresh spring atmosphere, consuming your nostrils and your lungs. There’s a tinge of dampness mixed with the spring air, rich with the aroma of verdure and new life. Hunger fails to call when the senses are saturated with the richness of simply being alive and breathing.

Air, sweet air, like liquid water it fills you and emboldens you with confidence. Whiffs containing hints of summer air surround and support you as you lie in bed during the early morning with the sunlight streaming in and the birds singing. Their songs are carried from the trees to your ears through the clear air.

Then you step out into the air. And you breathe the air, fresh, clean air, so that you are elevated into ethereal bliss that only the airborne creatures know.

To be soaring high with the hawks and dipping, whirling, circling, and rising to the skies eternal — that would be ecstasy. Pure, liquid, golden joy that pours from heaven through the air.

Holy Spirit, come breathe on us.


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