advent desire



but that we could come to see your face

upon the face of every child,

but that our countenances would alight with recognition

at the coming of your promise within every birth.

oh, that every mother, pregnant with the child, would see the angel, hear the whisper,

be filled with awe at being filled with miracle,

at how you choose to come,

at how you choose to come,

at how you choose to ceaseless come

becoming human over

and again.


oh, that each child would be greeted with such chorus,

gazed upon with reverence, pondered over,

gathered in and round

received, embraced and swaddled


with the milk of knowing

who they are.


perhaps then there would be no forgetting

our parents could remind us why we came,

because they would recall

because it would have been passed along to them

this legacy of blessing

from generation

to generation

to generation

the legacy of what it means

to embody Love


the sages and the shepherds and the crones

would surround to greet

each opening with beams of radiance

expectant, excited, ecstatic

at the prospect of our introduction 

“welcome to the planet, little one!!”

honored to be greeting yet another


hearts full of anticipation,

hope filled with imagination

of what the child will be,

what gift, what message to this earth, she’ll bring!!


oh mary,

i wonder how you did it

how you kept the hope alive

what was your lullaby,

what bedtime stories did you tell?

how many times, i wonder, did you whisper,

‘what a miracle you are, what a miracle you are ‘

how full of love, your heart, so filled with wonder that it overflowed with accolades

so richly blessed you knew you were, to be gifted with this child

to be given opportunity to nurture and to greet,

to accompany his soul


how did you protect him from the lie….


when you carried him, did you marvel

wrapping arms about your belly

at the mystery of Love, performing wonders within you,

breathing presence into being,

bringing spirit into form, time and time again.


did the perpetual incarnation of the generations overwhelm you,

generation after generation bearing God

were you struck with awe until you wept

at the realization

that you were bearer of God’s newest idea,


with knowing that you were also somehow

incarnation of the Same….


is this then where you and i were different

did you always know

had it not been driven out of you by life,

the knowledge of your blessedness

that you still owned it in that virgin, untouched place within yourself

to pass along

i wonder then about your mother,

about hers….


oh god, oh god

how did this happen

that the legacy of grace became disgrace

our children nurtured by a diet laced with shame

beaten down by words of unworthiness more wounding than our fists

their goodness buried by no-goodness,

unacceptability and blame

until Love’s escape became guarded by

this fear of rejection

generation after generation

of successive degradation


oh, when did we forget

who we are,

who you are,

who it is that we are holding,

oh mary, mary

how is it that your awed humility became humiliation

why do we hear the tender whisper of your blessedness

as required submission to our shame


oh god!! could you perhaps whisper louder!!

we so desperately need to hear,

to trust your story once again.

oh god, oh god, my heart is breaking

at so many wounded

so many, many wounded

oh god, so many wounded,


buried by the lie

and i am too small to dig them out

from where they suffocate

the knowledge of their goodness choked from them

by the harshness of this world’s

judgments brandished in your name

can you not hear the strangled toll

that haunts my wakening


perhaps whispers will not do


then why won’t you shout!!

fresh melodies of blessing

peal the bells

fill this nighttime sky with song

for somehow your Gloria has been turned

into a dirge

refrain after refrain

shame upon shame

heaped onto humanity

freedom’s measure twisted into bars

from behind which we struggle to believe

as blessing after blessing’s crucified


the requiem re-hearsed and re-hearsed

repeats its prophesy

of people buried neath the weight of wounds,

succumbing to the whims of judges

carrying a cross unwarranted of shame,

struggling onward up the hill toward death,

driven to our knees

until buried neath the stone

we at last awaken

to chip away at layer upon layer of learned resistance

to our goodness.


jesus, can’t you see?

what they’ve done with your body

i weep

i weep

i weep

along with mary at this tomb

generation after generation

piled upon the others on this hill


turning over bodies, rolling stones,

i search for light in lifeless eyes,

snuffed out by shame

oh god, oh god,

help me cut them down!!!


….one by one by one, i hear you say


and so i search for them underground

where they hang on to noose-like threads


awaiting gentle arms,

receiving arms

to gather gasping slumping bodies

and breathe into them breaths of life

as you once did my own


that we may someday rise

generation upon generation

standing on the shoulders of the last

out of this pit of execution

each one exalting, rather than diminishing, the next

passing on new legacies of blessedness and wisdom

to overcome unworthiness and shame

until the light uplifted pours out

upon this planet


this is my hope for the world

that they take the whip out of your hand at last

free up your arms for holding

cease the incessant scolding

that we might hear the whisper in the song

that we might hear the lullaby

luring us to dream


ah what a dream it’d be

where every christ child

would be embraced

completely in the circle

each being would be celebrated

welcomed and received


to grow in wisdom and in grace

oh how Love would be honored

in the process


oh how Love would grow

if not compressed by suffering ….

 would it not?

no time would be wasted

being damaged to be healed

before beginning once again


oh i do not know

perhaps this pain is necessary

but i can make no sense of this nightmare

neither in my heart or mind

but then again, i am not god

in my understandings or my ways

and so i wait

to awaken from this dream


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