Advent/Midnight
The crunch of snow sifts through the
quiet moon night, footsteps sure of the path.A small candle burns cupped inside
a clay-fired bowl formed from earth.I make my way this long dark night
under bare limbed trees of winter.Kneeling. I nestle the heart light into
crisp white snow. I await this eve forrebirth, not the sweet babe innocent of its
journey mewing for mother’s milk.I wait in the cold bone chilling to feel his
breath within, mixing with mine, becoming one.
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Author’s Note:
As the days of Advent draw to a close and Christmas day nears, I find my poetry becoming sparse. Less to say and more space for listening.
You may read my previous poems from this Advent:
To Create... 