Friday, December 26, 2008

Until next year...


God is with us! Thanks so much for checking in here and soaking in a little poetry. I hope it's been enriching for your Advent season. It has certainly been for me! I may start doing this annually as it's been helpful and you've all been encouraging. Thanks to all the various poets for giving us new eyes. Grace and peace to you in these days.


Thursday, December 25, 2008

December 25

The Glory
by Madeleine L’Engle

Without any rhyme
without any reason
my heart lifts to light
in this bleak season

Believer and wanderer
caught by salvation
stumbler and blunderer
into Creation

In this cold blight
where marrow is frozen
it is God’s time
my heart has chosen

In paradox and story
parable and laughter
find I the glory
here in hereafter

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

December 23

That Holy Thing
by George MacDonald

They all were looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high;
Thou cam’st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.

O Son of Man, to right my lot
Naught but Thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,
Nor on the sea Thy sail!

My how or when Thou wilt not heed,
But come down Thine own secret stair,
That Thou may’st answer all my need-
Yea, every bygone prayer.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

December 22

The Wise Men
by Madeleine L’Engle

A star has streaked the sky.
pulls us,
Where, oh where, where leads the light?

We came and left our gifts
and turned
Time had passed, friends gone from sight[

One by one, they go, they die
to now,
to us-
gone in the dazzling dark of night.

Oh how, and where, and when, and why
and what,
and who,
and may, and should, O God, and might
a star, a wind, a laugh, a cry
still come
from one-
the blazing word of power and might-

to use our gifts of gold and myrrh
and frankincense
as needed,
as our intention was to do the right?

Here, there, hear- soft as a sigh-
all that is spoken, back to the flight

blazing too fierce for mortal eye.
oh, Love, until we, too, may dazzle bright.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

December 21

I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Friday, December 19, 2008

December 20

Christmas Eve
by Christina Rossetti

Christmas has a darkness,
Brighter than the blazing noon,
Christmas has a chillness
Warmer than the heat of June,
Christmas has a beauty
Lovelier than the world can show:
For Christmas brings us Jesus,
Brought for us so low.

Earth strike up your music,
Birds that sing and bells that ring;
Heaven has answering music
For all angels soon to sing:
Earth put on your whitest
Bridal robe of spotless snow:
For Christmas brings us Jesus,
Brought for us so low.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

December 19

Mary's Song
by Luci Shaw

Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star
fallen to my arms. (Rest …
you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies
the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by doves' voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.