For Adventia, day 16, a clever translation and paraphrased retelling of Psalm 85 by John Milton.
Sunday, 12th of December. Advent, week 3 and day 15. We’ve enjoyed many great poems so far from numerous pens. Today features this piece by Anne Porter, “Noël.”
T. S. Eliot gets the spotlight for this submission to Adventia, day 14. I give you “Journey of the Magi.”
We intentionally missed a couple days. But, today I offer you this delightful poem, short but evocative, by Oliver Herford entitled, “I Heard a Bird Sing in the Dark of December.” Don’t forget to visit The Friendly Fogey where I find most of these gems.
The almost perfect Madeleine L’Engle gets our spot for Advent, day 10 with her poignant poem, “Into the Darkest Hour.”
Our poem for Adventia, day 8 is by none other than the great Polish-American poet, Czesław Milosz. This was first published in Warsaw, 1944.
December 5th. The Second Sunday of Advent. Sometimes, in terms of prophetic Scriptures, the Sunday representing hope. The gravitas of a future better than our past, of something yet to come that outshines the gloom of dark days, uncertain and fear-filled.
I can’t say this is necessarily that, but it is a new one all the same. And, if it helps to birth hope, all the better.
Cup before the pour, cocoa, or tea.
Clouds, rain-swollen, before taking their moment.
Hearts before words, warm and rightly spoken.
Page before pen, story pushing out to meet its maker.
Inside, a child gazes out at virgin snow.
Child, new and eyes closed, before the first embrace.
Car, keys jangling in shaky hands, before first welcome.
Night, old and disheveled, before day-gates open.
Gravitas, bodies’ ache, release of first touch.
Eyes, leaden-lidded, before the thick of sleep.
Tired world, sore of woe, looks East.
Our offering for Adventia, day 6 comes to us by way of the Adventus Project, which did a wonderful Advent exploration last year. C. S. Lewis never disappoints!
What the Bird Said Early in the Year
I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear:
This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.
Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year, nor want of rain destroy the peas.
This year time’s nature will no more defeat you,
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.
This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn, one year older, by the well-worn track.
This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.
Often deceived, yet open once again your heart,
Quick, quick, quick, quick! – the gates are drawn apart.
I missed a day. So, our beautiful offering from Christina Rossetti will make for two days in one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and still do.
Don’t forget to pop over and visit Real Poets Daily. They’re a wealth of inspiring poetry!
Yesterday was a busier day than I’d expected. I missed my daily Advent Poetry posting. Today brings this gem from Rowan Williams. Tomorrow, we’ll skip day 4 and post two for day 5. You’re welcome!