The season is in full swing, all lights and sounds,
all scenery and songs. “The greenery belongs
in the hall, not on the railing. This goes here
and that over there, not where it is. That’s wrong.”
But my soul longs ... my soul ... it longs
to magnify with Mary, to glorify the Lord.
I want to rejoice in the Mighty One, Holy One
to find a place for me. Not the tree, not the bells,
not the L.E.D. molded plastic manger. … Me.
The season is in full swing, and prophets call,
“Leopard and lamb, coyote and cow. And a child over all.”
And the words illuminate but dimly, dimly
The impending night, gathering still.
Do we even hear? Do we truly see?
Or are eyes and ears jaded by faded familiar
that has become background, unworthy of acclaim?
Into the noise, the silent savior comes, once more
expanding understanding and bringing abiding
There is a song in the air, and that song is called peace.
We wait for you, long-expected Jesus. We prepare for your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.