作者：金米

编辑：邢文娟   责任编辑：侯改英   校对：熊辩   翻译：刘芳

锡安教会的门，又被封上了。不是因为风太烈，

而是他们怕起风——风会带来声音，而声音，是他们最想控制

却最难控制的东西。他们说这是““依法”管理，

说得温文尔雅，

仿佛关押只是一场体面的误会。椅子空了，圣经还摊开在原处，那一页分明写着：

“光照在黑暗里，黑暗却不接受光。”有个年轻人在笔录上写下：“神爱世人”。警官轻敲桌面：

“这句，能不能改成党爱世人‘？”他犹豫片刻，点头。

然后，又悄悄在句号后加了一个小小的十字。他们嘴上说着”依法”，

心里却在怕——怕神的恩、子的爱，怕圣灵的感动

怕恩典传播

怕福音被传递给更多的人。

这世间的一切美好他们都怕，都反对。

他们擅于把恐惧包装成“秩序”，像用金丝裹着一只空盒子，呈给世界看。

这不是悲剧，

这是讽刺的巅峰：祈祷要申请，沉默要备案。可他们不知道，

信仰有坚固永恒的温度。它藏在信众的眼眸里，

藏在诗歌的余韵里，

藏在那扇被封的门背后。

当人们走过风依旧从门缝钻出，

如同草芽破土而出那般。

它轻轻拂过每一只耳朵，

恩慈地说一声：

“哈利路亚”。2025年10月25日

The Wind Speaks

Author: Jin Mi

Editor: Xing Wenjuan Executive Editor: Hou Gaiying Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Liu Fang

Abstract: This poem depicts the sealing of Zion Church and the unyielding nature of faith. It reveals the CCP regime’s repression and fear of religious freedom. Though outwardly silenced, faith persists like the wind—quietly carrying warmth and hope even within confinement, symbolizing that truth will one day pierce through the darkness.

The doors of Zion Churchhave been sealed once again.Not because the wind is too fierce,but because they fear the wind—for wind carries voices,and voices are the very thingthey most wish to controlyet can never truly contain.

They call it “lawful management,”speak with polished gentleness,as if the confinement were merelya courteous misunderstanding.The chairs sit empty;the Bible lies open where it was,on the very page that reads:“The light shines in the darkness,and the darkness has not overcome it.”

A young man wrote “God so loved the world”in his interrogation record.The officer tapped the table lightly:“Can you change that to ‘the Party loves the people’?”He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.And afterward, he quietly addeda tiny cross after the period.

They speak the language of “law,”but their hearts are filled with fear—fear of God’s grace,fear of the Son’s love,fear of the Spirit’s stirring,fear that grace might spread,fear that the Gospelmight reach more souls.Everything good in this world—they fear it, they oppose it.

They excel at wrapping fearin the packaging of “order,”like gilding an empty boxto present it to the world.

This is not tragedy;it is the summit of irony:prayer requires an application,silence requires registration.

But they do not knowthat faith carriesa steadfast and eternal warmth.It hides in the eyes of believers,in the lingering echo of hymns,behind the doors they sealed shut.

As people pass by,the wind still slipsthrough the cracks of the door,like a blade of grassbreaking through soil.

It brushes gentlyagainst every earand whispers with kindness:“Hallelujah.”

October 25, 2025