I awakened today with the verse of Christina Rossetti ricocheting among the synapses. It was her poem of the incarnation, In the Bleak Midwinter. This poem was originally written to be a carol and has been a part of the Christmas carol canon ever since.
Her words name the season of midwinter, of course, but also go to the depths of what it means for God to overfill the heavens and the earth. And if that is the case, what shall I, mere mortal, offer?
| In the Bleak Midwinter | |
| Christina Rossetti (1872) | |
In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him Enough for Him, whom cherubim Angels and archangels What can I give Him, |
vitalwholeness 