Dream, Don’t Sleep
An Advent poem by Sarah Are
based on Mark 13:24-37
They say you will come like a “thief in the night,”
The hour unclear, the day easily feared.
But I toss these words over the edge of my tongue,
And they don’t taste right.
A thief is one that I lock out.
A thief is the one that I fear.
So I ask myself—
Did I downgrade you to no more than a thief, Great Builder?
Did you form me from the dust,
Breathe life into my bones,
And paint the horizon into the sky, all for me?
And was all of that fine,
Until you asked me to love my neighbor as myself?
Was all of that fine,
Until you said, “Dream, don’t sleep”?
Was all of that fine,
Until you asked me to wake up to the suffering in the streets?
Did I imprison you to the role of the thief
To keep you from getting too close?
Forgive me, Great Builder.
Tear down the door to my house.
Crawl through the window.
Slip through the attic fan.
Dance in the security light.
Scream through the letterbox until I hear you again.
For this house is your house.
You built it.
You belong here.
I am begging you,
Break back in.