Where Is The Pavilion? Poem by Julie Schleppegrell

The holy spirit spoke to me,
throughout my life it always did.
Awoke in time now differently,
as it held my hand amid.

The spirit strummed my strings,
then the spirit brought me dead.
Accompanied with sweet nothings,
alone the pavilions dread.

Beyond the elements were of no other,
so I would never leave...
Satan kept me from 'another',
by roping measly heaves.

The Holy Spirit rose me,
I felt its loving plea.
It opened its hand to give thee,
a key for me to leave.

A Step from my pavilion,
as Satan bites my feet.
Be gone! illusions million,
stomping down beneath.


The Holy Spirits gifts us all,
and so I pray with each new day,
that we all direct the call.
Casting from the lighthouse such a brilliant ray,
~that this will guide us home today.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.