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.