I watch the sweep towards Benbulbin, <br />from Ladies Brae, <br />of sheep hill, and cattle fold, <br />I listen to the wind that <br />at night can winter howl, <br />and summer can carpet, like a <br />bride and groom wedding view. <br /> <br />The climbers towards the hill, <br />the young trainee searching monks, <br />towards Horeb look, <br />that sweeps down towards <br />Drumcliffe. <br /> <br />For then I lift up, <br />mine eyes have seen, <br />hope and beauty, <br />faith and ballast, <br />and what I look towards now, <br />and forevermore, <br />can be Christ on water. <br /> <br />Advent waited to mature, <br />as waiting does, <br />like wine at Cana, <br />between sinner and saint, <br />and Mary's look of love, <br />and Christ waits on <br />the still soul. <br />Qui fecit caoelem et terrem.<br /><br />Bernard Kennedy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/advent-hymn-to-christ/
