Ruth Fainlight’s poem explores Advent waiting. It describes the one who is awaited, rather mysteriously and intriguingly, as ‘the other’.

Whatever I find if I search will be wrong.

I must wait: sternest trial of all, to sit

passive, receptive, and patient, empty

of every demand and desire, until

that other, that being I never would have found

though I spent my whole life in the quest, will step

from the shadows, approach like  a wild, awkward child.

A labyrinth set out for Advent quiet day. Waiting to be used.

A labyrinth set out for Advent quiet day. Waiting to be used.

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