This originally appeared as part of the Daily Sip, a ministry of St John’s Cathedral in Denver, CO
by Charles LaFond
Blue Wings
Wings rustle in the Advent night
of Jesus’ coming.
The Angels are restless.
They look calm
because that is there job-
serene and quiet.
But you can tell they are
nearly bursting their
white robes with excitement
.
Their blue wings quiver
as with a lover’s touch.
How could this be?
How could He take on the form
of a small, fleshy baby?
How could the ruler
of a cosmos become
a child with poopy-pants
and a small smile?
You can tell the angels
are nearly busting their corsets;
and that those gently
folded hands
with those long,
delicate fingers
are scratching at their
white satin in sheer wonder
at this thing about to happen.
A Savior is coming.
Try to look elegant.
Try to look calm.
The Savior careens towards us
like a comet from the Trinity’s heart,
blazing a trail of freedoms.
There is a blue feather over there
near that stable door.
How did that feather get there?
You can see it in the hay
if you let the light from that star
hit it just right.