For Candlemas
Donald P. Goodman III
As winter wears its way, with warmer weeks ahead,
but still we shiver in the cold, though knowing nears
the spring, the warming sun; though days are longer, fears
of darkness, ice, and freezing linger; though our dread
of ever-nearing ages must fore'er be said,
the wrinkled weariness of dark endured for years
uncounted gazes at the brightness through its tears
of joy unspeakable, as starving man to bread!
For ancient, wizened waiter, worn and creased with time
beholds the heir of all the ages, sees the light
which casts aside the darkness, holds the lamb sublime,
with wrinkled arms embraces new and perfect rite!