From now until Christmas day I am
My life goes on in endless song,
A perverse lamentation.
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
That hails the new creation.
Far off, distant, beyond:
Divine clockmaker, piecing
Together our universe, setting
All in motion, then hiding?
How strange to build
A clock so grand
And not attend the grains
Of sand as we pass through.
Yet, still, it rings: Creation’s song.
Listen! Ere long you will hear it:
A song, carried by the wind.
Did it all begin with God singing?
And look, there, low
In the twilit sky, a strange new star
Signals us with its twinkling light;
We must not fight its call.
But where, how long?
The song does not say.
It only beckons:
Come, follow me and see.
And so we walk, alone, but lonely
No longer, for the song and the light
Grow stronger and brighter
With each passing day.
I think, this time,
We might find the long-awaited gift:
The Promised One whose love
Will lift our hearts and souls to God.
Above the tumult and the strife,
I hear its music ringing!
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?
Mike & Dana Rhyne