We asked five individuals from our community to come up with a spoken word piece for Advent. In this edition, “HOPE”, by Nora.

Ironic;
How the tears are what keep my face soft,
They wet my skin often,
but always dry off with the suns sweet kiss when He rises.
And He always rises –
I love that.
Mighty Lion, heavens wild cat
He greets me, holding the mason jar of all those tears.
And
One by one he takes them, carefully examines them;
and in His hands we watch as they turn into all these little seeds,
peony seeds, cedar seeds,
sunflower, saffron, and lily seeds,
and they start to dance around my disappointments
and then burrow under the surface of my hearts dark land.
And buried in darkness they wait – anticipate –
to be called upward by the rising Sons light
Because they know, even during the long night – he will always rise.
And darkness must go when he comes.
And faithfully He pours warm rays all over my gardens dark douvé;
and turn my sorrows into most enigmatic forest – brilliantly wild.
It makes me smile.
You know – With Him death always has its way of transforming into life –
Under His light, even the smallest of seeds proceeds with the power to break through graves, tombs, caves and catacombs.
And now, when new tears bloom,
Hope arises,
Because I know now the sun always rises,
He is the prodigy of redemption –
His name just be mentioned,
And just like the sun
He always rises.