With Longing from Earth’s Children
(Advent, anytime)
Lord, this season belongs to you
All seasons belong
Forgive if we’re slow
Or late
Or ornery enough to forget
It is the start of your new year
But the end of our old year
And we’ve sent ourselves an invitation
To go crazy
Worse, there is real need
Deeper than snow can fall
That knows no season’s boundary
It lives within
Sometimes we know it’s there
Sometimes we don’t
Sometimes we choose not to
We all have problems, after all
But some live in places
That are broken
Physical brokenness
That war, privation, indifference
Victimizing cause
And then there’s the other kind
The broken heart
The mind that’s split
The spirit rendered febrile by the world
That might splinter anytime
All this taken possession
By what’s wrong
Without the hope that right
Might have us, yet
Your child’s need was not to die
Not to be beaten
Starved and rendered thirsty
Dressed in mockery
Dragged through city streets
Out to a hill
For the devil’s victory
But this side of apocalypse
All victories are brief
Even the demons’
Their win broke inside the Earth
And rose in three-days time
And where have you appeared since them
To break the bonds of unholy agendas
To release captive spirits
Finally, forever
It’s your season, Lord
As all seasons are
Think of us in our deep tracks of mindlessness
Sometimes of our making
Sometimes by other strategy
Think of us
Help us think of you
For the thought might be a start
Or something else of us, an instance of hope
Surprise of feeling
Dawn-like or midnight inspiration
Might spark
Remembrance
A shifting of our spirits
Our wills to the favor
Of your power
C L Couch
the title is taken from
Newell, Philip (2011). Praying with the Earth. United Kingdom: The Canterbury Press Norwich Editorial Office. p. 52. ISBN 978-0-8028-6653-0. Archived from the original on 23 March 2012.
(image)
William Murphy from Dublin, Ireland – Celtic Cross – Glasnevin Cemetery Uploaded by AlbertHerring
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