O Child
In waiting, whose
Blessed mother welcomed
Divinity into this world’s
Flesh and time, who,
More marvellous, accepted,
Entered in, growing,
Bringing that halo’d,
Hallowed light ‘midst the fear
And fight to survive
(Or escape) that same
Flesh, and time.

Come, teach us
To name the nameless
Fears we dread (but claim
All is – we are – fulfilled),
To know those vales,
Dark lands, to be vacated,
Empty, desert sands, deplete
Of force, since now
We know: we are our own
Worst enemy, humanity,
But are no longer left alone
With ourselves.

Grant us now
Even now, before the end,
To walk the garden’s innocence,
With neither fear nor favour
Of the shade that hides
‘All manner of thing’,
To eat with you the curds
and honey, of these, our
varied Promised Lands,
The hill-flowed produce
Of a world made new
in gratitude and peace:

A Sabbath Feast.


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