Hearth and home,
An honest remedy against the cold and damp.
The house looks like a Thomas Kinkade painting tonight.
Fog and drizzle settle about our abode like an old jacket,
And wood smoke hangs in the branches of the trees like incense,
But without rising...
Everything is enveloped within the spectrum of light.
God is not far from us.
No prayers rise in wisps to a celestial kingdom amongst the stars,
For there are no stars,
Only rain and mist, fog, and woodsmoke.
Christ has transcended the stars,
Put on an old traveler's coat,
And at our fire he sits.
Our prayers need go no further than the breath from our mouth,
No further than our hands can reach,
No further than the light of the fire extends.
Christ comes the traveler and is with us.
He is the comfort given,
And the comfort giving.
Transcending the stars Christ broke mortal bread
And from a perfect cup, he shared the wine.
With grubby hands, we break the immortal bread
And from a broken cup we share the immortal wine
And our prayers
need go no further than the breath from our mouth-