At work I type hymn titles;
they get stuck in my head:
come, thou lo-ong ex-pect-ed je-e-sus
I look up and rain is pounding
born to set thy pe-e-ople free
all I want is a fireplace, cracklecozy
from our fears and sins release us
and union cafe hot chocolate
let us find our rest in thee
I am trying to feel out this time of wait, weight
the ad-vent, in-vent of something new?
I would like it to be more than the sudden
rush, whoosh, jump thump stump, but --
how do you weight, wait, wake, awake
at a desk, in your car, in your sleep?
Hours sleep, seep away and I feel, wait, WAIT!
My favorite time of day, I think, is lunch:
I stand in my tiny sun-soaked kitchen,
reheating beans and rice; water spins in my kettle.
Terri Gross's fresh air voice wraps 'round me.
I feel frozen with potential in this one quiet hour,
imagining what I could do if the sun never set,
and yet --
wake, awake, for night is flyyyyying...
(How can it be both?)
Advent, full and thrumming.