At the end of the book I just finished, Life At Its Best by Eugene Peterson, come several poems written by him as he meditated on the Incarnation of Jesus. I didn't get most of them, and there were two or three that I kinda liked, but the one below is so far my favourite poem among them.
A long wait before the faithful, sovereign, and all-wise God, I will not fear.
The Star
I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not nigh;
a star shall come forth out of Jacob.
Numbers 24:17
No star is visible except at night,
Until the sun goes down, no accurate north.
Day's brightness hides what darkness shows to sight,
The hour I go to sleep the bear strides forth.
I open my eyes to the cursed but requisite dark,
The black sink that drains my cistern dry,
And see, not nigh, not now, the heavenly mark
Exploding in the quasar-messaged sky.
Out of the dark, behind my back, a sun
Launched light-years ago, completes its run;
The undeciphered skies of myth and story
Now narrate the cadenced runes of glory.
Lost pilots wait for night to plot their flight,
Just so diurnal pilgrims praise the midnight.
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