Advent Comes

And by way of something different, for the threshold of Advent, a poem looking forward to this Advent, and the hints of a promise of a final Advent in a different way.

Advent Comes

Light in slums of that great city
Light in farm yard, cattle shed
Mother now conceived a baby
Sleep and dreaming, sound in bed
Touched by angels, touch so mild
As if touched by little child.

Stars shine brightly, light our heaven
Planets meeting, signs for all
From the humblest farmyard stable
To Cathedral choir stall
For the poor and mean and lowly
Signs and wonders of the holy

Old I grow, to second childhood
Soon the final words to say
Blessed be, O God our Mother
Come the grave where I shall lay
Come the promise that should be

The calling of the Lord to me

Advent comes, this yearly pattern
As from infancy we grew
We were little, weak and helpless,
Advent hope makes all things new
Signs and portents in our sadness
Promised hope of word of gladness