An Advent Meditation
By Thomas Worth, 2014
Our dog can sense a visitor a long way off.
He begins to growl and mutter in low tones.
During this Advent season I wait and look and long.
Do I sense a rumble in the distance?
I suppose I growl and mutter in my own way…
He, for whom the poets sang,
He, to whom the psalmists prayed,
He, about whom the wise pondered,
He, for whom the Exiles longed—
Draws near with a weight of glory.
He, for whom and by whom all things were made—is coming!
I sense the coming of him who defies description
Whose coming is so weighty it almost makes the earth tremble.
Creation seems to utter a subliminal groan
Longing for all the prophets foretold.
Will heaven and earth lose its moorings and flee away when he comes?
Or will the trees of the field clap their hands?
I get a sense in Advent of an approaching Immensity,
Something so huge and hard to comprehend—
And then, we hear the soft cries of a baby in a manger…