Friday, 1 December 2017

Advent, door one

This is one of my favourite seasonal poems. I'm not especially religious, not in a secure or satisfied I-Know-That-My-Redeemer-Liveth sort of way.

But at Christmas, more than at any other time, that little germ of spirituality stirs. I wish it would germinate and flower. But it's enough to know, each year, that it's still there. It gives hope.

And that hope is fed by words like these, the more so when read by readers like this. I'm afraid I've no idea who she is. The reading is taken from a broadcast of John Tavener's Ex Maria Virginae from St John's College, Cambridge, in 2005. So it might be someone from the college. Equally, it might be somebody from Clare, as it was the Choir of Clare College that were performing the music.

No matter. It's beautiful. And beautifully read.


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