Advent II, 2016
(for JTB and other unkempt prophets)
A match is enough
to distinguish nighttime from hopelessness;
so I listen for the strike against stone,
the orienting words of the seemingly unkempt prophet,
when the woods close round and the sun is eclipsed
by purveyors of maps going nowhere.
Let there be light. Let me bear light.
Let me turn toward you always:
My grounding, what calls to me,
my origin and All.
Kimberly M. King RSCJ
Consider the Lilies 
