Night of Nights

Blessed Christmas! May the Joy and Peace of the Lord remain with us as we seek to bring it to all we meet.

This night of nights, so dark, so dreary,
alone apart from bird and beast,
man and wife, in cave, so weary.
A birth! Of one who seems the least.

A cry not heart by many ears,
a mother’s rings out at night.
Our blessed Lord sheds human tears,
in splendid squalor shows his light.

O King of Kings, is that your throne,
a manger ‘midst the straw and hay?
No place nor space to call his own,
a babe in arms – will he hold sway?

This little child comes with no power,
and shall we wait for his hour?

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about the brushhead

had a head like a brush (it's more like an egg now). seeks to sweep through thought and faith with that brush. tries to wax philosophical but often forgets to wax off. trying to be good brush to all, while discerning what kind of brush he's meant to be.

Click here to contact the brush

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images

On a rock, among the flowers, amidst mountains. Nice.

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