“He comes to make
his blessings flow
Far as the curse is found”
Where has the curse
not touched or spoiled?
Where are his blessings bound?

Pestilence, thorns
Pollution and greed
Infest and choke
the farmer’s soil
With tired movements
against high currents
The table set with toil

Disease, calamity
Disaster, apathy
Have brought
So manly low
WHile grasping greed
manipulating hate
Steal lives and ruin homes

“There is no peace on earth”
I said
And sang it for a spell
For even those
who suffer least-
The plight of death knows well

For blessings of
The coming Lord
THe rebel world does spin
These bonds he breaks
Like fragile clay
And heals all who turn to him

Heal our land,
Forgive and mend our greed
The joyful voice resounds:
“He comes to make
his blessings flow
Far as the curse is found”

The rest of the poems from Rusten Harris’s Advent series on Moss Kingdom:
IncarnationChristmas EveKingsSome Kind of GloryChainsGiftsQuotidian CoupleA Thousand LightsEve & MaryTreasured UpChristmasWinter StavesThe GloriasCherubimJosephStrange RedeemerWombMagiTemple TroughAdventLord’s DayFar as the Curse is FoundJubileeThe Massacre of the InnocentsLiturgical Time

Other Advent poems on Moss Kingdom:

December 21: an Advent poem for the Winter SolsticeOf Edmund and AslanTiptoe HopeThe Second Coming by William Butler Yeats