Adventing

Silences prowls the exterior, viral news
keep us from stoking the shared human fire,
asking us not to betray with an embrace.
The time of the birth of the Christ light
shimmers on the minds horizon, yet darkness
creeps quick and stealthy towards our stable.
 
Faith implores that we must believe, sacrifice 
beloved idols of control on the alter of mystery.
We wait for the chosen one to come and save
us from ourselves. Muddy dogma cloys our feet,
so hard to raise our eyes higher than our boots.
How we learned to see perhaps the true danger.
 
Light strikes naked branches like lightening,
our retinas thunder as it burns its image
the cool sky and low dawdling sun inspire
their breath of life into their claying figures.
Winter does not mean death, instead it asks
an eternal question of who has the will to live. 
 

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