by Kent Reichert
Millennia distant from light’s conception, empty lamps cried in the darkness; dreams dwelt unrealized, mere tenants in the mind. The Word remained a promise, untasted sweetness, lingering on the tongue. Arcs draped across the heavens, tinted banners, reminders pointing toward the fullness of time. In anticipation, hearts, like skins filled with new wine, swelled. Few looked to the east for a new Sun to rise. An ambivalent, fractious sky embraced its dawn. This Light, extant before antiquity, moved with a mother’s touch, as grace descending upon the retina. Its hope, a catalyst to the origins of the universe. Its power bound in humanity, as a child, a carpenter, an itinerant evangelist bestowing peace, in love, in forbearance and forgiveness. Later, at its zenith, as sacrifice. In the fullness of time, Light intersected life, and in its radiance, remembrance illuminated need; realization revealed challenge; and expectation kindled the fires of responsibility to the now and future. All this abiding in the birth of the child who, in turn, gave life to us the Children of Light.
A lifelong educator, Kent Reichert, holds a Masters degree in Religion from Wake Forest University and a doctorate from UNC-Charlotte. A native of Southern California, he has spent the last 50 years living the North Carolina piedmont. His writing has appeared in The Dead Mule, The Dispatch and New Verse News, receiving a Best of the Net nomination for his poem Three Days by Rail from North Carolina.