Second Birth


(for the first Sunday of Advent. The vocation in this one: motherhood. And not-motherhood.)


All children in this holy season are born;

Fill mangers, greet expectant hearts with joy,

Receive our gifts, and sleep in heavenly peace.


For empty cribs and cradles not a word

Is breathed in carol or in heavenly choir,

For those who have the gifts but not the child.


That advent is a longer one, and hard:

Its carols have thorns in them, and three dark days.

It ends.  Its ending is an empty cross.


Image: Pexels

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