Deep beneath the surface
Of the cold, hard ground
I feel the stirring
Of the Sweetest Sound
Rises up through the trees
Calls the birds all around
‘Tis the Sunday, the Sunday of Love!
In the sanctuary
If they forget Her Name
Or strike Her image
She’s there just the same
In the peace lilies
And the candle’s bright flame
‘Tis the Sunday, the Sunday of Love!
‘Neath my own life’s surface
Stirs Her “Let it be”
Magnificat singing
That I might agree
Rising up through my soul
Justice sounds Her decree
‘Tis the Sunday, the Sunday of Love!
~Cheryl Anne
Advent IV
Brigid's Hearth 