Let’s at least
go through the motions,
lighting candles, folding open
paper windows, hanging greens
and singing songs of ancient expectation
in a time when hope seems
blackened by an early, bitter frost.
Who knows what momentary comfort
may be found in make-believe?
While all the time the babe –
already born – lies wailing
for the mother milk
of human kindness, the rough
yet warming blanket of true justice
spread across this waiting world.
Season of Preparation
