It is said that there/

will be a full moon for Christmas/

That it has been over 40 years since the /

last time/

and won’t be seen again/

for almost two decades/

forty years ago I was a teenager/

looking up/

on an urban moonscape/

seventeen years hence/

I will have met and exceeded/

my three score and ten/

and I know/

even then I will lift my eyes to the/

sky/

and wonder

 

 

The third Sunday of Advent/ allows us to see a glimmer of light on the way/ of reflection in the noisome crowded external/ do everything for everyone/ secretly want the big gaping hole inside/ finally filled/ under construction we pause draped in purple/ and listen to the launch of a burble of pink/ pink sandy beaches/ the pink of sunrise/ and sunset/ the pink filled with God breaking into/ the…

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The third Sunday of Advent/

allows us to see a glimmer of light on the way/

of reflection in the noisome crowded external/

do everything for everyone/

secretly want the big gaping hole inside/

finally filled/

under construction we pause draped in purple/

and listen to the launch of a burble of pink/

pink sandy beaches/

the pink of sunrise/

and sunset/

the pink filled with God breaking into/

the stubborn world/

the weary inner world/

one more/

time/