On the cusp of Adventwith the fires litbut the bells still stowed awayin closets, cabinets, boxes, and shelvesall decoration tremblinglike tinsel in a soft breezewaiting for the starting whistle the blessed season stirs in its slumbersubtle movements behind the eyelidsshow signs of awakening the dawn holds its breath in anticipationheralding that midnight long agowhen theContinue reading “The Waiting”