The Feast of Stephen

January is lonely—

And the difficulties

Wrap themselves anew

Round your legs once more—

Gone the few short days of

Belief strung like lights

From the eaves of Faith—

The warmth of anticipation—

The arms of joy to comfort—

The breathlessness of waiting—

And waiting for the coming—

For the borning of the new again—

In a child who is God—from the

Mother who first said Yes before

She had even seen His face.

December 2009

Dan Davis, © 2009

red -- dan davis, (c) 2010

~ by Dan Davis on 12.27.09.