Each Trembling Edge

Bachiacca. Madonna and Child. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, New York

Beloved,
       I sense a lingering lament
       This Advent season
       That crushing grasp of Love
       My weary eyes are flushed with tears
       My ears discern a distant weeping
       A loneliness beyond all reason
       A separateness on earth, a search
 
Beloved,
       So much of You is lost
       In the shapelessness of clutter
       The false contours of life
       Its sharp edges and illusions
       Its starkness and its shimmering cold
      
 Beloved,
       This Advent season
       Grant new birth within my frigid sleep
       Intensify my desire and my adoring
       A knowing beyond knowing
       That underneath each trembling edge
       Lies One sweet forgotten secret
       The Gift of Love, a Child, the Christ, a Savior
 
       BWS