For Advent, I re-read Dylan Thomas' "A Child's Christmas in Wales" and two excerpts stand out for me this year.
From the beginning of the book:
"All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged, fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find."
And I ask myself, when I plunge my hands into the unknown, what do I find?
From the end of the book:
"I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept."
Good words for Advent, a perfect time to speak words into the close and holy darkness.
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