Advent IV

by Lynn Martin

Blow, wind, with bleak December’s driving snow
with rousing blasts that tighten up these walls,
and sing the song you moaned so long ago
through Bethlehem and Herod’s stony halls.
Blow wind, and blow, and tell me, if you know,
what child it was was born so long ago.

For who has seen the wind, or that cruel lord
whose throne this child should topple? But you saw
and blew through him in dread, so that his sword
to slay the God-son he must quickly draw.
Blow wind, and blow, and tell me, if you know,
what child it was was born so long ago.

You scared the shepherds when, on swift-winged breeze,
you brought them angels, bearing them great joy.
Then on your wings rang out a hymn of peace
that sent the shepherds off to find this boy.
Blow wind, and blow, and tell me, if you know,
what child it was was born so long ago.

And gusting round the stable you blew down
and swept a torrent of God’s spirit there.
You wound the high king with his promised crown
heralding him with hymns of holy air.
Blow wind, and blow, and tell me, if you know,
what child it was was born so long ago.

Breathe me that spirit, wind, before you go;
light up a roaring fire with your breath,
for since that day you have not ceased to blow—
give us your fervor in the calm of death.
Blow wind, and blow, and tell me, if you know,
what child it was was born so long ago.


Photo by Kenneth Godoy.

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