| Home HCB Community Culture Random Acts Of Poetry Ache Of Advent |
|
Random Acts of Poetry: Ache of Advent
L.L. here. Just a bare week before Christmas. And in this time of waiting (for presents to give and hugs to receive, for challah and honey and apple cake with calvados-and-cider sauce)... in these moments of not-yet, I think of the ache of Advent and of life in general.
I see the ache in this marvelous poem from Joelle, called Knitting, wherein she sits still, yet moves, caught in the struggle of existence. Be sure to drop by and read all of it, because I'm just going to share an excerpt...
Knitting
Madame LeFarge,
moi,
sits: still, but for the
metallic clink and flash of needles
merging mohair and alpaca
in a rainbow register--
a scarf to match the hemp and
recycled silk bag from Nepal,
a whim.
Knit three,
purl three,
epitome
of simplicity.
Madame Guillotine
effortlessly decapitates
a second of the past for every
stitch.
A moment of impatience, knit one.
A heartbeat of resentment, knit another.
Fear, knit again and cross the strand.
The week slips through
clumsy fingers.
Defensivesness, purl.
Regret, purl, purl.
Heads roll in neat succession,
raveling a prayer.
Knit three,
purl three.
Trinity,
flow in me...
I see the ache of Advent-waiting too, through the eyes of recent High Calling Blogs member Sweet Corn and Cairo, as she responds to the gift of a new blog created and named for her by a friend. Says Kim,
Sweet Corn and Cairo. Hmn.
I've been thinking about those two things all day (well, between counting money, and the next chapter of FLIPPED by WendelinVanDroanen, and smiles and frustrations, and a really cool photosynthesis lab).
My mouth watered when thinking of the long wait till the first appearance of those new ears of deliciousness wrapped in silky threads, waiting (it seems just) for me to devour.
And of that somewhat curious love of all things ancient, and buried, and Egyptian... and eventually just things old. Treasures waiting to be discovered. Claimed. Maybe even restored. Brought Home.
You can read the rest of her poetic post at My Advent Gift
And finally, I can't help but see the parallels to Kim's post over at Erica Hale's, where she too seems to be caught in the ache of Advent in a desert setting. Here's an excerpt of Oasis...
Oasis
I dream of
that sun-drenched land
of sand and pomegranates
the date palms,
the olive trees
bent and twisted with age...
As for me, I admit there's something in the ache that I find satisfying. A sense of tension and wonder, an odd sorrow that is full, rich and hopeful. Truth be told, I'm in no hurry to leave Advent for Christmas. Though the apple cake is surely calling my name.
Other 
Most
We recommend logging in before posting comments
Reader Comments
Stay Connected
Subscribe for free to receive email encouragements about your work—once a week, once a day, or both!
Most Popular Posts
Most Emailed Posts
Featured Partner
RECENT COMMENTS
Daily Reflection From Laity Lodge
Is It Right to Displa...
In yesterday's reflection, I began sharing a personal story related to the use of art in the sanctuary of Irvine Presbyterian Church, where I served as pastor for sixteen years. I explained how,... Read More +
Founded by the H. E. Butt Foundation