I ask for grace-filled wonder to slip through the cracks
I know I am surrounded by wide-eyed wonderment, so much that’s wonderful
But often don’t see or feel or know it any more as an ever-present reality, in the midst of worn-out cares
I pray for more light and more love in the swirling of the seasons
Backwards is a darkness that so swelled, but then receded at the appearing of the perfect child
I desire wider eyes each year with which to see the child as a man
I do not need to look, for the child is always there …
But, can I follow the Man?
What will happen if I do?
What will happen if I don’t?
I turn and turn on the knife-edge of choosing
In setting my face towards the warmth of sun, I know that you do not want me to pass through this season’s dark passage without lamp or map or the company of others
Your delight …?
The grace-filled seed of wonder that slipped through eternity’s fingers to the wide-eyed wonderment of a waiting world …