Anticipation (Poem)

Anticipation

The hour has come. Make your motion
     to strike flint against tinder. Spell

the ambered flames of winterberry-warmed
     candles. Truss blue-spruced limbs

with a child's expectation. Be-ribbon the sticks
     of Saigon cinnamon, the aromatic gift

of anointment in the space surrounding. Inhale.
     Hold. Expire, and draw near. Watchfully

await the extravagant gesture of Gabriel, herald
     of the greatest show on earth. Bow your head

low, incline to accept the red-bowed wreaths
     of ruah. Feel the rush in each lung, searing

inside, the way sunlight burns the moon's face
     pale into the blue of another new day. Admit

your eyes within the clearing sky above. Anticipate
     the pinpoint pillar of flickering light soon

to dazzle the heavenly home and rise bright as monks'
     sweet voices, their chant of Veni, veni, Emanuel

trailing the midnight visit to the parish stall.
     Breathe in spiritus. Fill yourself with ruah.

The breath unseen in silence keep. Holy announce
     it. Ever after in wonder gladly sing.

© 2010 Maureen E. Doallas
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I offer this poem for One Stop Poetry's weekly One Shot Wednesday event. Be sure to visit the site late Tuesday afternoon and evening and every Wednesday for links to the many contributors' "one shot" poems.