A collective holding of breath,
growing anticipation,
the draining down of sand
and dawning realisation.

A sense of something changing,
reversal of the tide,
the night is nearly over,
two worlds will soon collide.

The earthly land of Adam
and heavenly realm of Christ,
by sin once torn asunder,
the terrible great divide.

But with the Light’s appearing,
the bridging of God’s Son,
his Word to flesh descending,
through love they’ll be made one.

To vulnerable skin he comes,
by human form confined,
it’s Immanuel we’re awaiting,
this hope-filled advent time.

So light a candle with me,
upon the advent wreath,
prepare yourself with prayer,
for the Christ-child to receive.

I was asked to offer a poem for a joint Advent service between my church and a neighbouring one (Rosedale Community Church). Mulling this over, I found an old one I’d written before and reworked it into this, changing the original last line and adding a number of new stanzas.
(07.12.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Alexandar Todov on Unsplash

In our family, I suspect like many others,
the night before Christmas Eve is Christmas Eve Eve,
but what about the night a month before?

By now I have compiled a list of all
the tasks, and services, and carol concerts
to be conducted within that month.

There are cards to write and gifts to find and pack,
a turkey, cake and pud to source and cook,
and house to tidy before the family come.

This wall of tasks stands seemingly impregnable,
demanding time and creativity,
an imposing rock face needing to be scaled.

It will be daunting, how can we do it again?
What can I find to say, when all’s been said
and done? The pressure builds and builds.

However, the reckless thrill of expectation
draws me on, the joyful promise of
a labour’s end, found in Messiah’s birth.

We might not have started Advent yet, but there’s no getting away from the fact that the countdown has begun…
(24.11.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Edi Bouazza on Unsplash