Advent to Candlemas (Vol. 4)

Body and spirit

Hope's distant light
Makes misdeeds sore;
Pride's slick fix lit
By the day longed-for.

The Easter wonder
Is far too bright;
Our misdeeds fade
In ethereal light.

Hope in a child
Surfaces shame;
Our failings lit
By a candle flame.

The empty tomb
Makes the spirit wild;
But the body yearns
For the little child.