Today's chocolate was eaten at lunchtime - it was that kind of morning.
When we opened the curtains it was still black night; all I could see was the streetlight outside the bedroom window, with occasional streaks of gold when raindrops fell from the lamp to the ground leaving a trail like a shooting star.
Rain is what it did, all day, and I don't think I have felt properly warm until now; this computer is right by a radiator!
he would come, unannounced,
remarkable merely for the absence
of clamour. So truth must appear
to the thinker; so, at a stage
of the experiment, the answer
must quietly emerge. I looked
at him, not with the eye
only, but with the whole
of my being, overflowing with
him as a chalice would
with the sea. Yet was he
no more there than before,
his area occupied
by the unhaloed presences.
You could put your hand
in him without consciousness
of his wounds. The gamblers
at the foot of the unnoticed
cross went on with
their dicing; yet the invisible
garment for which they played
was no longer at stake, but worn
by him in this risen existence.
Oddly enough, I have copied this from a web page which in which this poem was used as an Easter reflection. The last seven lines, of course. It is less obviously an Advent poem, but the these of this week's reflections is 'waiting'.
This is what I posted on the Reading Group facebook page;