cold clear December morning
snow, ice, still covering some of the lawn
across the yard, to the cross
in the labyrinth, still draped
a mantle of snow remaining
Your sun, Lord, shining
alive with light
falling on the birch cross
Your sun on the cross
remembering, in this advent season
Your son, coming into the world
first as a baby, wrapped in swaddling
in that humble manger bed
Climbing that cross, by his choice
following your will, servant, even to death
Coming again, in his final victory
your light coming into the world once more
shining your light into the darkness
Your son, no longer on the cross
seated on the throne, victorious
December 8, 2009
Your Sun
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poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005,
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for usage. See all 28,050+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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