by Wendy Jean MacLean
The Presbytery Staff is lighting the Advent candles
at the meeting tonight. I am Voice Three.
Nobody asked me if I wanted to be
but “We always do this skit, every year.”
So they plugged me in.
Maybe I should substitute my line
and use the one I remember from kindergarten: “What are you trying to tell us, Donkey?”
The Shepherds will splutter and try to ad lib
and the angels (secretaries and clerk)
will grimace through their tin foil haloes.
“And it will come to pass…” (the donkey farted)
and suddenly, the earthy laughter
and rumbling of discontent will come together
to become one voice. The syllables
will form in their startled lips
and everyone in the Presbytery
will find themselves shouting.
And the donkey will swish his tail
and answer my question with a gentle snort.
“Glory has no rules.”
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