Sherwood Oaks Blog

Advent Poems

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Black Friday

Blurry eyed and cold

Masses stand in artificial light

Breathing frigid dark air in and out

 

She checks her watch.

10 more minutes

No one speaks.

 

She sifts her weight from her right foot to her left.

A man grips a cart handle tightly

He looks at an ad paper.

5 more minutes.

 

The glass doors swing open

Shoving and nudging

The crowd advances through the entrance.

 

All looking for plastic little gods

Gods that will require batteries

And that will be tossed out by next year.

 

Smiling faces and armloads full

Of trinkets and gadgets wrapped in boxes with

Perfect little bows.

Placed in a car and driven home.

 

And no one is looking at the stars.

 

Stars (Star Of Wonder)

Stars remember times of Old

Ancient days when He spoke

And they breathed.

 

Stars remember times of Wrath

Sorrowful days when floods rose

And only one family remained.

 

Stars remember times of Slavery

Long days when they were far

From home and strangers in a foreign land.

 

Stars remember times of Triumph

Happy days when milk and honey flowed

And they finally belonged.

 

Stars remember times of Plenty

Golden days when palaces gleamed

With wealth and wisdom.

 

Stars remember times of Rebuilding

Resurgent days when toppled walls

Came back together brick by brick.

 

Stars remember times of Repentance

Remorseful days when sackcloth and ashes

Turned into joyful dancing.

 

Stars remember a time of Joy.

 

When they shone brighter over a wooden manager.

Brighter and Brighter still-

Singing over the One that gave them breath.

Flashes of starlight guiding

All humanity to the baby King.


Black Friday

 

Blurry eyed and cold

Masses stand in artificial light

Breathing frigid dark air in and out

 

She checks her watch.

10 more minutes

No one speaks.

 

She sifts her weight from her right foot to her left.

A man grips a cart handle tightly

He looks at an ad paper.

5 more minutes.

 

The glass doors swing open

Shoving and nudging

The crowd advances through the entrance.

 

All looking for plastic little gods

Gods that will require batteries

And that will be tossed out by next year.

 

Smiling faces and armloads full

Of trinkets and gadgets wrapped in boxes with

Perfect little bows.

Placed in a car and driven home.

 

And no one is looking at the stars.

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