Working, Waiting, Watching

I remember when we were much younger and we traveled to see family, my sister and I would continue to as, Are we there yet?  And our patient parents would reply, No, not yet; after you read a while, we'll be there.  How much more Mary and Joseph may have wondered at the time their journey took.  Now, between Advents, we look with wonder:  How long, o Lord?

Working, Waiting, Watching

Working and waiting, waiting and watching,
Time is a package to be opened with care,
To not be used up too quickly or let into thin air.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching,
Time goes so quickly with each passing breath,
One less beat of the heart, one less beat.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching;
How were those days Mary and Joseph labored
To travel from here to there over difficult terrain.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching;
Joseph may have watched Mary more than the trail,
May have wished to take the labor's pain.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching;
Mary, on donkey or foot, watched and waited,
Joseph, no doubt on foot, worked and walked, watched and waited.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching;
Over the terrain in some amount of pain walking,
Stumbling perhaps but moving.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching;
Would they get to Bethlehem before the birth?
Would there be room, even on packed earth?

Working and waiting, waiting and watching,
The angels kept the shepherds in sight,
Poised to messenger on the coming night.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching,
The shepherds were diligent to work, to wait, to watch,
Little imagining they'd see the Lamb of Israel.

Working and waiting, waiting and watching,
Between that First Advent and the Second,
We wait which we work and we too watch.

(Even so, come!)

Advent Poem: After Gabriel's Visit

How strange those months must have been
For Mary and her family.
No wonder she went to visit Elizabeth;
Who else could sympathize?

And then the news.

She and Joseph would have to travel . . .
To Bethlehem.
And then.

Did she know then would be then?
And when did she first feel
Life within?

Life which chose to be contained.

How strange that Grace
Would choose to come in such a common form
Yet
In such an uncommon manner.