December 3 brought a favorite day and a favorite poem:
The Coming of Light
Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
Mark Strand
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What a beautiful poem. I can almost feel it.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the Advent calendar! It's one of those things you forget about until it arrives, then the children get all lit up, remembering that this is one of those things that means Christmas is really coming. :-)
Love you. :o)
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