A poem by Madeleine L’Engle,
This is the irrational season
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason
There’d have been no room for the child.
She adds in another place,
‘Most of the time the fact that this fact is impossible doesn’t bother me. I live by the impossible. Like the White Queen. I find it a good discipline to practice believing as many as seven impossible things every morning before breakfast. How dull the world would be if we limited ourselves to the possible.’
A worthy maxim, advent inspired: ‘Live by the Impossible.’