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I was born, I'm currently living, and will eventually die. After that I face my judgment, and we'll talk then.

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Saturday, December 25, 2010

Advent and Christmas poems

Throughout Advent, I have been writing little poems to put in my Facebook statuses. It was fun and a good excuse to work on my poetic moves.

I've decided to post the poems here, starting with the earliest and concluding with the last, which was written in honor of Christmas. I have read over them and tweeked them a little from the originals on Facebook.

I hope you enjoy them.

POEMS FOR ADVENT and CHRISTMAS 2010


“Preparing the Magi”

In silence I wait for Him,

trembling I search Him out.

Where will he be, I ask

my peers, who shout aloud

"Behold he comes!"

Seers seem so silly sometimes.



“Joseph”

The angel told me patience,

and so I wait.

Moving slowly

from state to state

If God has come

to my own home

How will I greet Him?

With love full grown.



“The Annunciation”

Few would heed an angel's coming,

fearful of unwanted storming,

unpleasant pains, unwanted unrest,

when angels come with God's request.

Yet here she stood, most pure in thought,

and gave the word, her holy fiat.



“Ecce Leo Dei”

There is a hint of something coming

slowly, surely, but it is coming.

Can't you hear it, breathing strongly

a lion roaring, barely sleeping,

waiting, hoping to start leaping,

He is hunting, waiting, watching.


Deep in Judah there is a lion,

not tamed, but angry, vicious, and wild.

He stalks his prey, an impure child,

that runs rampant through defiled Zion.

He wants to feed on those converted,

but cannot if they aren’t herded.


”Beware,” the serpent's whisper still,

"Avoid the lion; liberty He'll kill."


Then the serpent ran away,

fearful of that dreadful day,

the lion's birthday come at last,

a living breath from God full blast.



"Ecce Advenit"

Who would listen to what we said,

an echoed voice from prophets dead,

He comes, He comes,

From Heaven to Earth

He comes, He comes.

the Way of New Birth.

Come Sinner! Come Saint,

Bathe in the glory.

A beautiful portrait His life will paint,

His Gospel, His story.



“To my Lady, Mary”

Ave, Ave, Ave Maria.

Hail my Queen.

Hail my Lady.

Hail my Hope.

Hail, Hail, Hail, O Mary

Full of His Life, Beautiful Rose

Purest one.

Stainless, Purest One.

Flawless Jewel, Shining Gold

Hail My Lady!

Sweet Perfection.



“Gaudate”

Rejoice o daughter, your Lord comes soon.

Beware, o evil, the coming monsoon.

A King is coming, not one to boast,

though he’ll expel thee, Satan's host.

Rejoice again, throughout the land,

Feel not far from God's own hand.

Hear now his voice, feel now his trust.

Let not your swords then turn to rust,

for a fight is coming, a war appears,

when even just deaths will cause hot tears,

when young and old die in battle fray,

And peace and calmness away do stray.

But Rejoice, again, for he that brings war,

Brings too hope and love and peace evermore.



“Silent Night”

You can feel the hush as the chill surrounds you.

It’s like dying.

Something died tonight: a growl was heard,

Echoing through the dead lands.

The war is reaching its climactic finally,

Rally, Rally, Rally the troops.

ECCE REX!

Behold, he is here.

Venite! Come, let us go to Him!


The only sound is our footsteps,

Winding towards the simple castle.

No guard guards, nor archer watches.

We enter in unharmed.

Draw breath and enter,

Cast the chill away.

Feel warmth, feel strength,

As Daylight shines at night.

BEHOLD THE KING!

Bow down, man, bow down.

Do you not see the infant king?

His eyes are deep, his manner meek.

His servants moo and even bleat.

Inhale the incense of his new abode,

The sweet smell of His own creatures.

Venite Adoremus!

Bow before Him, the KING of the world.

No ordinary king, to be sure,

But the King of Kings, the great High Priest,

A hero divine, a prince of peace.

Tremble before him, and know his mercy.

He takes away our sins. He breaths in us new life.

But not yet.

For now He sleeps.

He has years to save us,

Any moment he could do it.

But he will do it when he wills,

And not a moment sooner

Nor later.


Who do we tell of the glories of God?

Our neighbors? Our masters?

We tell our friends, who tell theirs too.

We are ready, for He comes, He comes,

Behold He comes.

Ecce Advenit!

We must tell someone.


And in the silence of the night,

The calm remains unbroken.

The still and silence breathes new life

Into the wayward world.

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