Wednesday, 21 December 2016

A poem for 21 December

Long night ahead?
Nah, just a short day.

It's not the hours of darkness
that bother me,
but the passing of the day:

'Life's little day',
ebbing swiftly to its close.
Too soon, too soon.

The light of new life
in a baby's eyes.
Then years flicker past,
and light dims to dark.

But the baby, ah, the baby.
The eternal baby.
Every year crucified,
every year reborn.

New life in the cycle of life,
death undone
and robbed.

Longest night.
shortest day.

And from today, 
light returns.

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