Tonight I stand under Orion's shadow
Waiting for the Advent birth that is never going to happen.
Open hands and the Spirit's empty womb
Preach with quavering voice.
Hand in hand
Walk to the edge of the Gospel
To see what it has to say
When known becomes unknown
The Spirit beats her wings
Rising from the ashes,
Her birth a harbinger of pain and joy
Where it all becomes true
There is no epidural
The hymns cast in a minor key
As we wait together,
Doubting, knowing, seeing only the shadow
As Orion shoots the solstice moon
Faithfully aimed with shaking arm.
Waiting for the Advent birth that is never going to happen.
Open hands and the Spirit's empty womb
Preach with quavering voice.
Hand in hand
Walk to the edge of the Gospel
To see what it has to say
When known becomes unknown
The Spirit beats her wings
Rising from the ashes,
Her birth a harbinger of pain and joy
Where it all becomes true
There is no epidural
The hymns cast in a minor key
As we wait together,
Doubting, knowing, seeing only the shadow
As Orion shoots the solstice moon
Faithfully aimed with shaking arm.
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