Snow dust

As I write this the first service in Spanish at my home parish should be about over.  It is a new thing.  So new that I do not know what to expect next.  I am now on the edges of planning such things.  New things happen in the midst of the old and change comes to both.  It has Holy Potential, this new thing in the midst of the old.  What did you come out into the wilderness to see? asks John.  I am not sure what to expect next.  

Spots of snow dust remain.

In the sun and blue

The light angles lower.

We hear the second lesson

Of John the Baptist.

He is not worthy

To tie Jesus* shoes.

He opens the way in the wilderness

Anyway.

Maybe people will see their way clear

To find Him

In the wild,

If they cannot venture through

Temple doors.

He is coming.

He comes.

He came.

He will come again,

A light dusting of snow

On his shoulders,

Light angled lower and lower

Even in the sun and blue.

Two weeks of wait,

Then born again

As the sun

Begins its angle higher.

Snow promises heavy

This year.

Here in the North

The snow drifts through Epiphany,

Then out into the wilderness again.

So much begins

In the wilderness.

Now there is snow dust.

Now we wait.