When I was young I saw the holy ghost as casper, dressed in white.
He was so nice and non-threatening; he’d help to make things right.
A little spooky, though, at times, for what else could he be?
A ghost, a spirit, not a man – someone I could not see.
I did surmise that God the Father was the big one there.
Jesus the son was here, also, but only for holiday fair.
But what purpose did this one serve, whose being is mystery.
I guess he shows us that God, himself, is someone you can see.
This time he’s seen by movement-in fire and through the wind.
One needs not eyes to see the prize, but behold the dark rescind.
Go deeper than what you do feel to sense this touch of heav’n.
He is the way you know God’s there. He’s from our Savior given.
Do not attempt to meet him where the mystic presence flies.
He is not there, he’s not a force, but you meet him with your cries.
And when he comes he will not come to center on his name.
He’ll lead you to the one in whom you’ll never be the same.