Advent 8: Not Wanting Anything

I did have quite a few more advent reflections in mind, but life has been seriously interrupted. More on that another time, and until then, here's a quick one courtesy of mewithoutYou, a nice little sweet rock song that is one of the most poetic advent reflections I've ever encountered.

the horse's hay beneath his head
our Lord was born to a manger bed
that all whose wells run dry could drink of his supply

to keep him warm the sheep drew near,
so grateful for his coming here:
"You come with news of grace, come to take my place!"

the donkey whispered in his ear:
"Child, in thirty-some-odd years,
you'll ride someone who looks like me (untriumphantly)."

while the cardinals warbled a joyful song:
"He'll make right what man made wrong,
bringing low the hills, that the valley might be filled!"

then "Child," asked the birds,
"well aren't they lovely words we sing?"
the tiny Baby lay there without saying anything.

at a distance stood a mangy goat
with crooked teeth and a matted coat,
weary eyes and worn, chipped and twisted horns

thinking: "Maybe I'll make friends someday
with the cows in the pens and the rambouillet,
but for now I'll keep away -- I got nothin' smart to say."

but there's a sign on the barn in the Cabbagetown:
"When the rain picks up and the sun goes down,
Sinner, Come Inside! With No Money, Come and Buy!
No clever talk nor gift to bring
requires our lowly, lovely king,
come, all emptyhanded, you don't need anything!"

the night was cool and clear as glass
with a sneaking snake in the garden grass,
Deep cried out to Deep, the disciples fast asleep.

The snake perked up when he heard you ask:
"if You're willing that this cup might pass
I could find my way back home,
maybe start a family all my own...
but does not the Father guide the Son?
not my will but Yours be done!
what else here to do?
what else me but You?"

and the snake who'd held the world,
a stick, a carrot and a string
was crushed beneath the foot of
Your not wanting anything.

listen here: