romancing the world

sometimes i can hear the world breathing.

it's in the stillness, the act of doing nothing, that it hits like blast of train whistle and the mouth of the world smells of pretzels and salt and sweat and beer and coffee and tired and fast food,

like the exhaust of our veggie car

an exhausted world. it hits me at our bible study as we're huddled round everyone trying to un-hurry hearts for an hour to forget about suzy's cold and jimmy's grades and to know Him, by stilling.

but then it's rush of car and home and sleep and work and rats racing and there is no time for brushing teeth just go, go, go and

mary sits expectant

i sit excited for

the advent of this wreath, which ann's son has made

and for some reason this year, i cannot wait
for advent

yet i must
for it's in the waiting, the days leading up to conception, that romance happens

the wooing of a world gone weary

the roses of a suitor-God who comes in form of angel
says, behold
i love you
enough to give you life

we need this stilling, this knowing of a divine kind of romance for without it,
there would be no immaculate story, no savior in a manger, no God on a cross, no Christmas worth winter

and so, i wait
the coming of advent


(shared with one shot poetry)