Advent Reflection – Day 21

Part of one of my favorite poems, period. Now with connections to yesterday’s words from Barth. Read along to the music….

from “Messiah (Christmas Portions)”  by Mark Doty

Who’d have thought

they’d be so good? Every valley,

proclaims the solo tenor,

   (a sleek blonde

 

   I’ve seen somewhere before

—the liquor store?) shall be exalted,

and in his handsome mouth the word

   is lifted and opened

 

   into more syllables

than we could count, central ah

dilated in a baroque melisma,

   liquefied; the pour

 

   of voice seems

to make the unplaned landscape

the text predicts the Lord

   will heighten and tame.

 

   This music

demonstrates what it claims:

glory shall be revealed. If art’s

   acceptable evidence,

 

   mustn’t what lies

behind the world be at least

as beautiful as the human voice?

   The tenors lack confidence,

 

   and the soloists,

half of them anyway, don’t

have the strength to found

   the mighty kingdoms

 

   these passages propose

—but the chorus, all together,

equals my burning clouds,

   and seems itself to burn,

 

   commingled powers

deeded to a larger, centering claim.

These aren’t anyone we know;

   choiring dissolves

 

   familiarity in an up-

pouring rush which will not

rest, will not, for a moment,

   be still.

 

   Aren’t we enlarged

by the scale of what we’re able

to desire? Everything,

   the choir insists,

 

   might flame;

inside these wrappings

burns another, brighter life,

   quickened, now,

 

   by song: hear how

it cascades, in overlapping,

lapidary waves of praise? Still time.

   Still time to change.

Advent Reflection – Day 19

Advent by Rae Armantrout

In front of the craft shop,

a small nativity,

mother, baby, sheep

made of white

and blue balloons.

skygodgirl

 

 

               *

Sky

           god

                      girl.

 

Pick out the one

that doesn’t belong.

             * 

Some thing

 

close to nothing

                               flat

from which,

 

fatherless,

everything has come.

Advent Reflection – Day 9

The Gift

 

One day the gift arrives – outside your door,

Left on a windowsill, inside the mailbox,

Or in the hallway, far too large to lift.

 

Your postman shrugs his shoulders, the police

Consult a statute, and the cat miaows.

No name, no signature, and no address,

 

Only, “To you, my dearest one, my all…”

One day it fits snugly in your pocket,

Then fills the backyard like afternoon in Spring.

 

Monday morning, and it’s there at work –

Already ahead of you, or left behind

Amongst the papers, files and photographs;

 

And were there lipstick smudges down the side

Or have they just appeared? What a headache!

And worse, people have begun to talk:

 

“You lucky thing!” they say, or roll their eyes.

Nights find you combing the directory

(A glass of straw-colored wine upon the desk.)

 

Still hoping to chance on a forgotten name.

Yet mornings see you happier than before –

After all, the gift has set you up for life.

 

Impossible to tell, now, what was given

And what was not: slivers of rain on the window,

Those gold-tooled Oeuvres of Diderot on the shelf,

 

The strawberry dreaming in a champagne flute –

Were they part of the gift or something else?

Or is the gift still coming, on its way?

 

          Kevin Hart

strawberry champagne

Advent Reflection – Day 3

               Advent

The wind in the winter wood

Drives the snowflake flock like a shepherd.

A fir tree, sensing how soon

She will be lit with holiness,

Strains to listen. She stretches wide

Her branches to the white paths,

Braced to brave the wind, growing

Toward that glorious night.

– Rainer Maria Rilke, born this day in 1875,

     translated by Jenn Cavanaugh

Advent Reflection – Day 2

“Hope” by Thiago Elias

“Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Either we have hope or we don’t; it is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not essentially dependent on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation. Hope is not prognostication. It is an orientation of the spirit, and orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons…. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. The more propitious the situation in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper the hope is. Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”

– Vaclav Havel