Advent

Heavy lay the snow the last warm breath
just lingering inside our gloves next to fatigue
it slowed and chilled me and my brothers
toying with a seam at winter’s hem until the cold
was far too much we stumbled home and stood
like living clouds of steam our thrown scarves
garlands for the railing and the chairs
Mother I even began to feel afraid
when the last light topped its arc
those slender luminous birches and fat oaks
towered purple as lit candles guttering
their colors with the evening deepened
stark and bruised full as a falling bowl
then in a moment sickened down to grey
the day extinguished thick fog hung upon our necks
the collars of our coats and wrapped the trees
like soggy paper in itself the darkness threatened me
Mother through the window I could see you sitting
fireside and from the door you seemed all flame
my small cheeks reddened on your breast
stiff fingers curling in your chestnut hair
your breathing lowered me into the deepest trust
Mother you may take me anywhere you go
from the bedding of your arms say to my Father
look at him my love see what we made together.

 

 

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Conciliar Post is an online community and archive devoted to thoughtful Christian reflection. Since its founding, the site has published theological conversations, reflections on Christianity, reviews, and commentary on culture and current events from a Christian perspective.

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