Pause and reflect —
One moment only,
In the torrid  burning of our time,
And consider this:

We are not the lists we keep,
– Gifts to buy,
– Things to do,
– Things we’ve won,
– Loves we’ve lost,
–  Even the things we’ve done.

No, none of these will do —
We are babes, merely in waiting
For something to be formed,
For love-to-come
In the Advent of us all.