Poem: Advent
The old man with time disfigured face
Praises the snow outside the window,
Cries to the wondrous night
After the turkey feast,
After the first Sunday of Advent
Whose alert will strike
The blind world with a light
So radiant, so absurd in its laser
Brightness that all earthly motion
Will stop in its tracks to attend
The mystery of that ancient forecast
With its promise of grace.