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In the darkness of the season, in the silence of Mary’s womb,
new life waits and grows.
Hope is shaped in hidden places,
on the edges, in the depths
far from the blinding lights and deafening sounds of consumer frenzy.
In the darkness and silence of my own life,
I wait,
listening for the whisper of angel wings,
longing for a genuine experience of mystery,
hoping for a rekindling of joy and the establishment of peace.
I lean into the darkness
and silence.
Expectant.
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6 comments:
Hope is shaped in hidden places.
This speaks to me.
Thanks, Jan!
Hello,
I appreciate that you have used and cited Larry Peacock, with a poem I much admire. I ask, though, that you cite the source as well. It makes a huge difference to publishers, who are facing all sorts of penalties due to new technology (much like the music business). And if you can share the request with everyone else whom you see overlooking that extra step, it would be a great service!
Thank you so much for sharing this Jan. It is just lovely!
Becca, I would cite the source if I had it. I usually do. However, a teacher handed this out in a class with no citation. If you know the source, please let me know.
really wonderful poem...
That's a lovely poem, full of expectancy.
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