“If Advent is the season of waiting, Christmas is the season of wonder,” so may this poem and the ones to follow aid us in our wondering at heaven’s answer to our heart's deepest pleas.

O Sapientia| Malcolm Guite
I cannot think unless I have been thought,
Nor can I speak unless I have been spoken.
I cannot teach except as I am taught,
Or break the bread except as I am broken.
O Mind behind the mind through which I seek,
O Light within the light by which I see,
O Word beneath the words which I speak,
O founding, unfound Wisdom, finding me,
O sounding Song, whose depth is sounding me,
O Memory of time, reminding me,
My Ground of Being, always grounding me,
My Maker’s Bounding Line, defining me,
Come, hidden Wisdom, come with all you bring.
Come to me now, disguised as everything.

*the Hebrew name of God transliterated in four letters as YHWH or JHVH and articulated as Yahweh or Jehovah.

On The First Day of Christmas...

O Sapientia| Malcolm Guite