His Will - The Storm That Moves Me

I am but a dry leaf in the air,
No wings to rise—yet I am there.
A storm unseen lifts me high;
Not my strength, but
God’s eternal will.
You may not hear the breath that flows,
But trace my path—and you will know.

I long to shed this weight I bear—
Pride, and self, this cloak I wear.
When I am light, no “I” remains,
Just wind and grace in sacred chains.
Not I who move, but He who wills—
I am the hush when Heaven fills.