It is quiet now in the fieldswhere the grass was bathed in song.And empty now the skythat held angelic hosts and golden light.Nothing now, but the bleats of eweslooking for their lambs,and the soft breeze swayingthe branches and leaves.What did we hear?The fire burns lowas the shepherd’s eyesstare upward, unsleeping,into the stars.What did we see?No…

via Fourth Sunday of Advent — Experimental Theology