The Spirit is a Flaming Red Cardinal

The Gospel writer says
that the Spirit came upon
the Son of Man
like a dove,
and I'm not here to dispute that.

I just think the Spirit is also
a flaming red cardinal
quietly landing on a branch
beside me on the trail,

and the Spirit is the gentle wind
blowing through the wet leaves
above me
showering me in secondhand rainfall,

and the Spirit is the raindrops,

and the Spirit is the chipmunk
peeking its nervous little head out
from between the tree roots,

and the Spirit is the gentle stillness when I pause
to watch the drops
make concentric circles in the pond.