A poem for Advent Sunday:- Advent Calendar 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 shrouds 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 the 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, like breaking, as the earth writhes to toss him free. He will come like child. Rowan Williams
Posted on: Sun, 30 Nov 2014 12:00:01 +0000