While Waiting, a poem

There is a silence that stalls  --
clear rain water on narrow leafy veins;
dripping settling liquid space,
dreaming an empty craving that is you.


now my spirit is pregnant with sky.
it walks on water, is wide-eyed staring --
smelling touching laughing heaven;
breathlessly claimed into a wind that is You.


 The past days, I have been tempted to compromise God for my own worldly desires.  The last line of this poem was supposed to read, "breathless running into a wind that is You". But I didn't run into the Wind.  I was relentlessly pursued, wooed, won over, reined in, and reminded of  who I am.