The Feast of Epiphany is tomorrow...it is one of my favorites in the Church year. It is for me one of the most easily imagined stories... I can imagine the travellers, the camels ("galled and sore-footed" according to Eliot), the curiousity that must have been present among them, the doubts and certainties, the question of what will happen once they see... what will change? That is the question, isn't it? For who could remain the same?
Though I do know the story as it is recorded, I also can't help but believe that there were more than three who set off on the journey...
An easy journey it was not.
But worth it? Oh that night—
in the lullaby of light
draped on their wraps
and star dappled faces,
I heard Mystery laugh and understood
with the clarity of a cold bell chiming
that in spite of what was before me,
I had not truly arrived
Nor would I until
I was willing to walk
with nothing but love
as the glory fire lighting
my heart and the unknown path.
Damn good, chère....
I can hear/visualize you saying that... I hope you can see/feel me smiling back. Where would a poet be without good people to read her work?
I was happy with this, too. The ending was a not unpleasant surprise... not at all what I expected would happen. Somehow poetry met words met story in this one.
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