Advent

Even the days are dark,
void, empty,

your spirit dry and crackling,
fragile.

Drained, yes drained,
battered

from without and within,
without anything

left.

But even darkness has a turning point,
that place

were you see a soft light
in a distance

and reach for it,
unsure perhaps

from whence it comes,
but certain

it is better than this dark place
you live.

Your God awaits you there,
unexpected,

strong and anything but distant
leaving you to choose

intimacy,
or not, he waits.

Your choice.
a simple one,

love,
or death.

About this poem

My sermon series for Advent this year is moving from darkness to light. So that’s where my mind it a lot these days. Including, it seems, today’s poem.

Tom