East Wind

A Meditation on Isaiah 27:8

“...with his fierce blast he drives her out, as on a day the east wind blows.”

Swirling, hot blasts,

Windswept desert sand,

Blinding the eyes,

Grating on the flesh,

Driving from the land.

Stinging winter chill,

Pounding all around,

Icy, frozen pellets

Chasing me to shelter,

Covering the ground.

Descending from the heavens,

Soaking to the bone,

Advancing sheets of rain,

Curtains of moisture,

Pushing me towards home.

Only for a season,

This uncommon flow of wind,

Punishing, yet directing,

Scourging, yet protecting,

Leading me to him.

The east wind does not forever blow.