A Poem: O Israel When You Were Waiting

I wrote a poem about advent:

O Israel, when you were waiting,
Sitting by the rivers of Babylon,
Quivering, sad, along the shore,
Singing your songs no more than a memory,
Were the promises you were clinging to.

O Israel, what did you long for?
How did your heart pour out petitions,
To a silent God in the lights and noise,
Of idol roars those nights you cried,
Waiting for the Lord to hear.

O Israel, lo, did you listen?
On a silent night in David's city,
A stall was fitting for a child born,
To be exiled and torn and then on a cross,
Suffering the loss to bring you and all people home.

O Israel, what do we long for?
How do we wait when we have what we want,
All we anticipate is a replacement,
Of that which is satiating our hearts,
Leaving them starved of the hope that looks for you.

O Israel, while we are waiting,
In a Babylon of opulence,
Let your hope inform our memory,
Tell your stories now and sing us your songs,
Teach us to long for our Savior who has come.