Advent Longing
by Larry J. Peacock
In the darkness of the season,
in the silence of Mary’s womb,
new life waits and grows.
Hope is shaped in hidden places,
on the edges, in the depths
far from the blinding lights
and deafening sounds of consumer frenzy.
in the silence of Mary’s womb,
new life waits and grows.
Hope is shaped in hidden places,
on the edges, in the depths
far from the blinding lights
and deafening sounds of consumer frenzy.
In the darkness and silence of my own life,
I wait,
Iistening for the whisper of angel wings,
longing for a genuine experience of mystery,
hoping for a rekindling of joy
and the establishment of peace.
I wait,
Iistening for the whisper of angel wings,
longing for a genuine experience of mystery,
hoping for a rekindling of joy
and the establishment of peace.
I lean into the darkness
and silence.
Expectant.
and silence.
Expectant.
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