Winter skies of deep indigo inky
And blotted with a moon of chilled pearl
Come earlier each afternoon
lingering into the morning
More deliberately
Magnifying
My ache and yen
For rest, quiet, peace
As I travel towards another Bethlehem remembrance.
It is Advent
And the wait is the treasure.
I light a single candle amid
Stories of cosmic chaos
Humming lullabys
That sound like carols
And I breathe in the purity
Of an inky indigo night.
Welcome Advent.
Reblogged this on Michael Moore's Blog and commented:
Beautiful, Nancie!
Thank you!