It pushes it's way down the path, arousing leaves from their autumn slumber. Dancing it's way through the hanging chimes the music grows louder. With each passing moment it's power intensifies. Lying in bed I listen to it's howling...beating against the barn door...looking for it's weakness...it's way in. I don't always think of it's existence although it surrounds me daily. Most of the time it's quiet. It's affects invisible. Something to just breath in...breath in without any thought. Sometimes it comes as a gentle welcomed breeze in the midst of July heat or the crisp coolness on an autumn eve, but in the midst of a storm the wind can not be denied. With violence it beats it's way through destroying anything in it's path. Like our enemy. The enemy of our soul. All to often I forget he's there. Most of the time he's quiet, subtle, clever. At times I welcome his presence. Not intentionally of course - but if I'm hone...