The same feeling after all these years
A hillside like a grooved step beneath the swirling stars
My footfalls pushing the orb around its axle
Heaven palpable in its clear-eyed journey
Sending my head spinning with hope
The hardest part is waiting
Crook cradled in the crook of my arm
Ears tuned to galactic harmonies
Is that a ewe's cry or angelic refrain?
I remember how the messengers smelled when they sang to me
Snuffed candles and nutmeg and marshland silt
Yes, the hardest part is waiting
Worse after a taste of the otherworldy
Too many years since the god-man-child howled in the stable
I thought I knew patience then
The endless nights waiting for the spring lamb to come
For the mouths to eat their fill
For the haunches to fatten
For the bleating call to raise me from half-slumber
Can you understand the desperate null of a life once touched by the Most High?
Only the very old or very wise should be shown such wonders
What am I to make of all the nights since
When no hosts filled the sky with song
And the earth did not shake
And the baby mewling in the poor quarters was just a baby?
I saw him speak once, in the marketplace near my home
And I have heard rumours about that week in Jerusalem
And if it’s true he's coming back to free us
Then the hardest part will be the waiting