periphery

Greetings, St. B's friends...below, from the Bauman clan, an advent offering. God be with you all.


Three days journey more
This City of Bread
We ascend.
Our nourishment,
Your soul,
Stretched fragile
Against blue collar sky;
Our sojourn,
Your will,
Rhythmed
By weary breath,
Burdened
By Middle Eastern sweat.

All the while
History exhales
Its last gasp
And waits
Your holy
Resuscitation.

Yahweh,
Respire these lungs
Blanket this shiver
And kindle this revelation
But stay not your advent:
Undress Your glory
Slip on human skin
And pitch your tent
Among us—

We who hunger
Who thirst
Who dwell
On the periphery

Come.