By Abigail Leigh

Glorious Awakening

In the land of the dead:
a basket of light,
               falling, catching
on powdered ground.
Closely watch—
               it’s waiting to break.

Through bleak sleet,
a reflection
               glimmers, grows.
Beneath black ice,
a stream
               fidgets, flows.
Under glass skin,
a taste of something golden
               blossoms, blows

To break the curse,
To thaw the snow,
To bring to life—through a life.

Among the night,
silent and noir,
               a silver star shines forth.
Over a hill,
in soil frozen, deep,
               a blessed babe is laid.
Between wind’s teeth,
gnawing and bitter,
               a piercing cry breaks forth.
Within fir branches,
thorned and bare,
               a celestial nocturne kindles—hope
and ashes come to life.

Glorious awakening!
an earth long buried in darkness,
melts in the miracle—now knows its worth.

Fall, one
by one
               before holy, infant son:
in the ice of our grief,
the basket of light:
               the Light of Life,
is born—has come.
Closely watch—

               Heaven has broken
Down.

Silk and Stars

Dear heaven,
Made of silk and stars,
Overflowing yet aligned,
What lungs unfurled you into existence?
What fluttering depths ignited your skies?
Overseer of the burning night,
Herald of the dawn,
You are boundless yet in mystery reached
Down, to finite heart did whisper.
Muddied though it was
By doubt,
From these eyes removed the squint,
Filled this sullied sight with wonder:
A fallen star—torn—so I could mend,
That light might invade my dark
And beget myself as its child.
Limitless, yet curtailed by limbs,
You infused hope with bounded breath.
In babe descendent of celestial orbit,
Laced both mortal and immortal;
The Eternal and ephemeral
Together intertwined.
A testament of divine, a taste
Of silk and stars—

Heaven come down.