Just because you have seen something doesn't mean you understand it.
Maria blows the stars around, and sends the clouds a'flying.
Maria makes the mountains sound like folks were up there dying.
From the Paint Your Wagon soundtrack; They call the Wind Maria.
The wind is blowing tonight,
blustery at times as a cold front pushes in.
It rushes past my bedroom window, and I wonder where its going,
where its been.
Did this gust that scatters yellow over the deck begin small, a whisper that
soothed another? It may have been born much colder, growing gentle as
it mingled with warm counterparts that had spent the day racing over the
Gulf, giving rides to sea gulls, sprinkling sand on tanned bodies.
The soft wind that gently supports the wings of a butterfly in Africa can travel
across the Atlantic, feeding as it goes, then push ocean waters over entire cities, entire communities, entire lives, before it loses its energy.
The same wind that is harnessed for electricity can be the refreshing breeze that tickles the wind chimes.
The wind is mighty, a physical entity that God set in motion at creation, power that is revered and feared.
Tonight, it's a lullaby.
They were terrified and asked each other, "Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!' Mark 4:41