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shepherds

so much to bear

(x = space)

x

x

so much to bear

(Advent 3)

x

white candle lit among the read

where I attended

pink candle among the blue

or purple

elsewhere

or four white

or five

or whatever combination

serves

three candles now

four for Sundays

then the fifth pillar for

the birth of Christ

x

we love

our small flames

they are romantic

they bring us close to

see

to feel

small heat

grand symbols

the joy being close

Christ is born

to save the world

remembering verse seventeen

after sixteen

protested in the games

x

incarnate

incarnadine in poetry

and in fleshly Bethlehem

that might or might not be

accessible

because of war

or

who knows

issues regarding

ownership

x

the birth is also

inside

the spark of faith

breathing

as at birth

born again

we say

x

Eve restored

Adam

wandering

may cease

knowing who he is

at last

for there is another

showing the way

for masculine

and feminine

for fully human

taught with the help

fully divine

x

prophecy says so

but we carry

prophecy inside

as well

let everything

burn three times

in remembrance

in faith

renewed

extinguish

and turn out

take them with you

x

Angels we have heard on high

we have heard the angels

they are in the sky

x

no wonder

for the wonder

we should be afraid

and the first thing that they tell us is

don’t be afraid

don’t worry

we are here with good news

our assignment

telling Mary

telling Joseph

telling you

that the child is born

at last

for all the prophecy

so that both might grow

and everything

into completion

x

c l couch

x

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(the third Advent candle for the third Sunday is often associated with joy; this candle is lit also to recognize the shepherds who heard the news from angels and journeyed, then, to Bethlehem)

x

photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

x

Night in a Small Town in Western Asia

Night in a Small Town in Western Asia

(Advent, anytime)

 

We think of Jesus born at night

Though he might have happened

Any time of day

But we carry into our services

The scene of nighttime

With the shepherds

 

It’s good

It is romantic

And nearly always it is quiet

As the time of birth is recalled, near

 

We pray

We sing

We watch the candles in the room

And, if a flame is passed,

For hair that might be singed

 

In the afternoon inside the stable

Before angels appear

Declaring peace

With a call for good will,

 

The parents must be tired

Mary must recover

Their shelter is so rude,

Would they welcome visitors?

 

Maybe the shepherds could

Be all right

They are simpler, frankly most likely unrefined

More importantly, they have

Traversed in fear and

Aspect of wonder

 

I recall the gifts from shepherds

In the mystery play

Have a bob of cherries

Offers one of them

To the child who is a savior

Who says they don’t know

The true nature of majesty?

 

Then the sky is unveiled, and angels turn

Like diamonds in a jeweler’s light

 

coda

 

Isn’t there something that happens to us

Sometimes

That puts the rest into perspective

If only briefly?

 

For a moment, the created universe made sense

It had been fashioned for perfection

For the joy of seasons

Provision unrelenting

Delight in foraging each day

For new phenomena to complete the senses

 

In this night,

It was returned

A promise announced in the sky

An old one, a new one

Everything at first and last as it should be

 

C L Couch

 

 

By Robert Stinnett from Boonville, MO, USA – Small town Friday night, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=69141495

 

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