Winter meeting - a Christmas sonnet

The wind is wrong. The dog is not aware a buck is watching us through standing corn. His tawny coat is earth, his glinting pair of antlers seem more ragged stalk-ends, torn by harvesting. I see his silent stare at us as though from tense and floating eyes. Oh, he is fully there - and yet not there: like Christmas thoughts, I muse, which can arise in any field, at any time, confer the resource of their being on the scene. Once born to men, the thoughts of Christ occur unasked, bestow their implications. Clean and Leep, desired or not, they offer grace. From then till now there is no empty place.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK