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.
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August 2020
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