Your Sun by Raymond A. Foss
Looking out my office window cold clear December morning snow, ice, still covering some of the lawn across the yard, to the cross in the labyrinth, still draped a mantle of snow remaining Your sun, Lord, shining alive with light falling on the birch cross Your sun on the cross remembering, in this advent season Your son, coming into the world first as a baby, wrapped in swaddling in that humble manger bed Climbing that cross, by his choice following your will, servant, even to death Coming again, in his final victory your light coming into the world once more shining your light into the darkness Your son, no longer on the cross seated on the throne, victorious
December 8, 2009
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