Turning off the news
I walk down the path to the waters edge
(Despairing angels weep at every fence post)
The cold wind whips the water into a froth against the gray stony bank
(Where is He in all of this?)
Autumns landscape has changed to winter
(Pray for us now)
The world, hard and cold, in its fallow season
(And at the hour of our death)
I toss pieces of bread to the small wild ducks
(Peace be with you)
As they sail away, I turn to home.
(and also with you)
“Into this world, this demented inn, where there is absolutely no room for him at all, Christ comes, uninvited.” — Thomas Merton
*** I had every intention of writing an advent poem each day. But with the news of yet another mass shooting, this is the best I can do. Praying for the victims and for our country – and praying that we can come together as reasonable people and create gun laws for the good of our country.