Song

Advent, Days 14-15

Zephaniah 3:17

For you I do not think
the night was silent. You heard
the squalling of that baby, naked
form held in his coarse bewildered
hands, the Almighty fitting impossibly
into the space of his fingers. Your
Son. Your heart must have already been
breaking for the brokenness that would now
be his home. And as he came so tiny into
this night, you heard, as ever, the cries
of your beloveds, their groaning, grief-laden
wonderings rising one by one from endless 
prayers that merge into the river of longing
that connects us to you. This night for you
was anything but silent, was the beginning 
of your long agony, your joy reduced
now into this bundle held in time and flesh,
come unknown to all but these few. Surely the singing
of those angels was your answer to the ever-sung
lament that has defined us from the first 
bite. I am here, you whisper, I have come
and I am coming, I am always
coming to you. This soft promise slips
into our lamentation, intertwines with it
the notes of eternity. From now on the song
will be ours, together, our weeping meeting 
the song that is your answer: I am with you,
I make your pain my own, and I will carry it
all the way to the end.