Arrival
©2020 Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com
“Hello, darling dear.”
Lighting the advent candles,
the 6:30am greeting enters
sweet upon still-waking ears.
Could be deaf and still hear it,
what comfort, what joy.
I have an interesting habit
that until this very moment could not be explained
yet, is intuitively followed—
middle candle, traditionally reserved for Christmas Eve, I always light straight-away,
along with whatever candle represents the designated week before Christmas.
Why should I wait for God to arrive? This seems impossible.
Looking out the window, it is cold dusk,
no light has yet to creep over Tahoe mountains,
but always it is there,
rising.
Lighting the advent candles,
the 6:30am greeting enters
sweet upon still-waking ears.
Could be deaf and still hear it,
what comfort, what joy.
I have an interesting habit
that until this very moment could not be explained
yet, is intuitively followed—
middle candle, traditionally reserved for Christmas Eve, I always light straight-away,
along with whatever candle represents the designated week before Christmas.
Why should I wait for God to arrive? This seems impossible.
Looking out the window, it is cold dusk,
no light has yet to creep over Tahoe mountains,
but always it is there,
rising.
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