Advent whipers in my heart
He is coming
The breeze blows hope into my soul
and a smile to my lips
He is coming

What began to be too much to hope for under the heat of the Sun
has now become certain
He is coming

The promised land is coming
in the Promised One
And, when I smile audaciously in my solitude to tell him I know,
He no longer hides his joy but gives me a moment's glance to say
He is coming.

The love that could not contain itself in Himself
Cannot hide forever
As each moment is a torture to him and to the one He loves
He is coming.

He waits in the womb, but it is I who must grow in silence, under Mary's heart,
and be made ready by the Father who knits me together in my Mother.
While I wait for Him, it is truly he who waits for me.
and He is coming.