He will come like last leafs fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud’s folding.
He will come like frost,
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien sword-set beauty.
He will come like dark
One evening when bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky
He will come, will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free
He will come like child
An Advent prayer
The heavens could no longer hold your abundant love,
So you poured out the gift of your embodied self
Relinquishing the beauty of your majesty,
To adorn the pale colours of our humanity.
Choosing to enter into this world in a place of scarcity and need.
You chose as the place of your birth,
a place of poverty, of refugees, of suffering and fear.
Let us choose this to be the place and time of our rebirth
Rebuild us, Lord,
Make us anew.
We ask this for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord.