Come, Lonely Winter Solstice

Imagine Yourself as God Almighty,
creating the world of wonder
and fruitful vegetation—a Paradise. See Yourself
telling Adam and Eve to care for the earth,
to walk as Your friends in both sun and shade.
Granting them free will, You let people choose to obey
or not. Remember how You felt the first time they didn’t.

Making covenant after covenant, You
outline Your plan to save people from themselves,
to create them anew again and again.
You think back to the Arc as it floated about,
halting on a mountaintop. You linger
on the hope of the dove. You sigh,
for You know how hard You tried to make Your people
see. You operate outside of time,
but a sigh is an expression people understand.
You hope they will answer. Your sigh is Your love.

When time’s fullness came, You made
true newness possible through Your Son,
born of a Virgin. You nailed it this time,
sent Your Son to walk among people.
You witnessed His birth, childhood, youth,
His suffering and death,
His return to Your throne.
The You sent Your Spirit as man’s resident guide.

But still You hear people complain,
even when they look at Your colored sky
through blackening trees. You know some feel [Your Love]
in the heating ocean, in the rush of the wind
whirling their windmills. “Perhaps,” You think,
“more will respond,” but instead You hear rumors
saying You died, followed by “How can the unborn matter?”
“What kind god lets evil happen?” “What are we even
here for?”

Again this year, You see through Your Godly eyes,
ever-loving, ever-trying, a remnant who love You.
You hear them praise You with joy! “Holy! Holy! ”
they sing with the angels. Perhaps You are encouraged.
“Come, lonely winter solstice, show the earth
My Son once again in the manger,” You say,
as You remind Your Church that “He, Who has become
the Eucharist of Our Holy Union, will come one day
for those who are watching and waiting.”