update– posting that poem here as well:

Hymn for Advent


Adeste fidelis and the geese come in

In their great V of applause

Boy choir of the sparrows clinging

To the tamarisk boughs


And then one bell

Tolling morning

the near mountains

In blue splendor

The sleeping goddess

Of the foothills

Snow mounded in her hip


Or perhaps the world itself

Is that One

her hair streaming back

against the fires

Of the sun


Her tears those rain veils

that enfold the moon

so that from her mouth

Rejoicing pours


Take heed

Of the dawn that breaks here

The magnum mysterium

Of her many birds


And their grand choir– Glory be

To God on High

You will not find

Peace here


But a restless and imperious

Beauty that will stun

And heal you

If you lift your eyes up

And listen and see.


copyright 2010 Jenne’ R. Andrews

all rights reserved

Please feel free to stop by La Parola Vivace— where I’ve been posting my drafts– to read an Advent poem– thanks!  xxxj