“. . .and the night spreads a new light
that no darkness can obscure, and
perennial faith shines forth.” – St. Ambrose
From the window it beckons: Come!
Come, you who dwell in shadows.
Come, you who slouch in despair.
Come, you whose body is aging.
Come, you who no longer care.
Come, you who scoff at mystery.
Come, you whose truth is your own.
Come, you whose eyes have grown steely.
Come, you whose seeds are all sown.
Come, you who taste only the bitter.
Come, you who mourn a loved friend.
Come, you who hear only sad songs.
Come, you who long for your end.
O dear ones whose hearts are tattered,
come bask in my warmth and my light.
Come feast on the splendor of color
that pierces through dreariest night.
Dance to the rhythm of starsparks!
Rejoice with glad hope and with joy!
Prepare for the One who is coming:
Holy Mary’s sweet baby boy.
(Editor’s note: This poem originally appeared in the Nov. 21, 2014 edition of Pilgrim: A Journal of Catholic Experience, and is posted here with kind permission of the author.)
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