Winter is drawing in,
the light is sharper,
the days are shorter,
the air is crisper.
Now is the time to gather in close,
to whisper words of hope,
to brush off the dust from those traditions
which speak deeply to our shared expectation
our collective story,
and lean in to the memories speaking of future joy.
Now is the time for looking inward,
for reaching outward,
for meeting the gaze of pain with steady eye,
and tender heart with recognition.
It is the time for love
to stretch out long arms,
wrapping them around smelly bodies
and broken frames,
soothing sores with balm,
and warming hands between our palms.
Love which shows no fear of the other,
the unknown,
the lost,
the desperate,
but gently wipes away tears
whilst silently weeping too.
Now is the time to gather in close,
to share what we have,
to hold tenderly the broken heart,
to treasure the story and honour the journey.
Now is the time to gather in close and hold out our hope,
a tender flame –
bright in the darkness,
and tentatively lift our voices in song,
singing of comfort and joy,
freedom and peace,
without prize or fanfare,
but as one beggar to another,
having found the bread of life.
Now is the time to gather in close,
hold our children closer,
our loved-ones nearer,
our enemies with empathy,
and cherish the story of being known.
Now is the time.
