Friday, 16 December 2011

Early Dawning Of The Season

Am reminded of a time where I was sitting at the cafeteria, where a 3-piece jazz band was merrily belting out Christmas tunes, way before the season arrived. And I remember how the tunes continued to linger in the shadows and under the full moon, as I trotted back to my dorm through the walkways and subways. That moment brought stark realizations on the significance that this season truly brings – nothing less than a hope for all hearts. A hope one must realize.

Early dawning of The Season,
Close knit, yet far sighted.
That jazz trip and song in the shadows,
Lobbying One Hope, and One Light.

A watchful gaze, piercing darkness,
The eye of the night, mesmerizing in fullness.
The sweep of The Spirit,
Soaking, saturating…sequestering silence.

Staring in stark realization,
A clouded conscience, childish chagrin.
The train of temperament, eluding its own path,
And unto its own.

Woeful remorse, within hapless emptiness
I shudder.
For if Thou hasten Thy Hand,
Will I be ready for Heaven.



  1. This joyful poem starting in a happy note of life is gradually becoming rueful.

    You know, I felt I was imbued by the same feelings you write, that childish chagrin, those woeful remorses, but after the Season coming in a few days, how can I be doubtful of being ready for Heaven? I am (not deserving it), He wants (to have me), what else is needed?

    Am I wrong?

  2. You are exactly right, Tony. Him desiring us in our unworthiness is all sufficient, yet I suppose we can't help but be in complete embarrassment of such grace. Hence the hue of doubt, for our sinful nature certainly drives some of us to that point of wondering whether we can ever be deserving of anything, what more of Heaven.


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