At the heart's midnight listen—
for the angel song (glory in the highest)
silencing earth's
cries of desolation.
An ark once
lifted the faithful
above the floods of evil,
and as those receded
a new world began,
began in the minds—
always first in the thinking;
the listening ear,
the obedient heart, built afresh,
to specifications.
Again men listened and followed,
left behind them,
along with the fleshpots,
the whiplash, the slavery
of a conquered race;
wandered, wandered,
but eventually reached
the new shore.
And at midnight—the month
doesn't matter (December?
January?)—
angels announced
to listening shepherds,
to listening ones,
the beginning of a new era.
Always at the heart's midnight
listen! Listen!
Then watch the darkness
disappear, and the light break.
Christ comes whenever
the receptive one
makes room.
