Advent is the time of year of waiting, waiting in expectancy, aware of our human frailty but with the promise of something new to come from God. It's both solemn and scary (the shepherds were sore afraid of they knew not what) and full of excitement and mystery.
Here's a poem I wrote last year for Advent and Christmas. I'll just post the Advent part now, then post the Christmas part.
A Shepherd’s Story
I am a simple man, a shepherd who tends my sheep.
I know where to find good grazing ground,
But these hints of miracles and mysteries deep?
Lord, I have no mastery of things profound.
I cannot understand the signs You gave me--
I only pray that in Your mercy You’ll save me.
Sleepless, I marvel at the star being birthed this hour;
Oh Abba, what is this terrible thing I await,
This Holiness of such unyielding power
that on shaking knees I beg my fear abate.
I can do nothing but pray. On You, Oh God, I wait.