Holy Spirit by Patrick T. Reardon

Holy Spirit (in caps),
aka Holy Ghost, aka Paraclete.

With Father and Jesus = Trinity.

In art, dove,
like the one that left the ark,
came back with green twig,
like dove over the Jordan
and the water over the Son.

The beloved’s eyes in Song of Songs
were doves.
Before wolves, “innocent as doves.”

Dove = peace.
Not eagle, warrior of the air.
No meek sparrow.

Aka Giver of Life, Breath of Life,
Wisdom and Understanding.

For Father, think Cosmos, all Nature,
Big Bang to atomic geography, overarching.

For Jesus, a guy you could meet.

Holy Spirit = sweet inspiration.

Dove = flight,
a flittering, ignoring gravity, riding breezes,
always whispering,
the still, small voice, the gentle breathing,
the soft itch of silence that Elijah heard.

Aka Comforter.

Dove = insight,
wonder of surprise.

Dove, sometimes called she.

Patrick T. Reardon, a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee, has authored ten books, including the poetry collection Darkness on the Face of the Deep (Kelsay). Forthcoming in 2022 are his memoir in prose poems Puddin’: The Autobiography of a Baby (Third World) and his chapbook The Lost Tribes (Gray Book).