(poured out in response to the shootings in Newtown and Everytown; date: December 14, 2012)
We’re in the middle of Advent…
but it feels
like Good Friday has broken in:
O Come,
O Come now, Emanuel….
Why on earth
is the manger empty–but for blood-soaked swaddling cloths?
Teeth-clenching, gut-wrenching
lip-biting, broad-siding
a salt-waterfall
comes cascading down,
deepening despair
and disappearing
into the depths,
its source and destination the same.
Its source and destination the same,
out of the depths,
babbling and
billowing hope
comes burbling up
the tear-choked channel.
Heart-mending, fear-ending
breath-taking, life-shaking.
We’re in the middle of Advent,
but it feels
like Easter is breaking in:
O Come,
O, Come now, Emanuel….
Why in heaven
is the manger empty–but for lily-white grave cloths?
