still waiting

still waiting
(advent poem two)

i bought all the presents
careening through target
three times
cringing at each total.
i ordered with expedited shipping.
i argued with my love
about what qualifies as ridiculous.
i sped across town in the dark to get that
one
last
thing.

i’ve been pondering
how to get my family,
with their flip flops
and tangled curls,
into decent clothes for church.

i hate christmas.

i wish i could just take jesus out for beers
next week, call mary on sunday.
or hell, i’ll host a party
with stars in the piñata,
i make excellent punch.

i am waiting
to feel the spirit, again,
the one who got lost
in aisle nineteen
as i was yelling
god dammit
because the man in the puff coat
just got the last hundred dollar crock pot.

and then she snuck up on me
this morning
at five a.m.
while sleep was still stuck
under my eyelids.
i remembered
in a few days
i am going to tell a sanctuary full of children
the improbable
story, that i actually believe,
of mary in the cold dark
birthing jesus,
and the light that finds the deepest cracks.

i am waiting
to watch their widening eyes
behind the tangled curls
as they fidget in scratchy dresses
and too tight suit jackets.
i am waiting
for the opening
of dangerous possibilities.