Poem for the Second Sunday of Advent

The Coming
And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.

R.S. Thomas 1913 – 2000

In his Spiritual Exercises Ignatius invites us to imagine we are present with the three
persons of the Trinity as they gaze at our world and see just what is happening. He
wants us to experience more deeply the wonder and mystery of the incarnation – of God
coming in person to our rescue. Use this poem to help you see as God sees, and hear
with wonder and joyful relief the amazing longing of the Son to come in, come down and
come among us.

-Tina Lamb