Epiphany Poem, Prayers, and a Recipe

Here we are, at the day before the feast day of Epiphany.  How shall we prepare?

Many cultures celebrate Three Kings Day with a special bread. Many families have charms that are baked into the bread that signify what will come in the new year. Even if you don't have special charms, you could use things you do have: a nut, a foil wrapped coin, a dried cranberry, a piece of frozen fruit.

This blog post gives you a recipe, with photos, for a simple, no-knead 3 Kings Bread. Why not bake it for tomorrow?

As you bake the bread, you might ponder the word "epiphany" and all its variants. What epiphanies do you need/knead for the coming year?

May this be the week-end that we see the visions that we seek, even if they twinkle at us from a distance so very far away. May we have the courage to move towards that vision, even if it requires a great journey or a different kind of leap of faith.

And here's a poem that has a similar wish, albeit expressed in a different way:

Celestial Visions and Insect Songs


When someone curses
you and your stars, switch
to the tarot deck. Cast
your runes to approach
the future in a different way.

The stars reveal The Future
only to a select few,
which is why we had to invent
these other ways to divine
our ever present ancestor,
The Future. We squint
to see what it holds
in its wrinkled hands.

The Future, mysterious and hooded,
prefers the shadows, the galaxies
hidden to our casual eyes.
Very few of us want to know.
We prefer the icy sparkle, the knowledge
in our stars kept light years away.

But if you listen, you can hear
our destinies in every insect song.
Every butterfly sighting reveals
our future: the crawling
creature cocooned
until a moment of brief
beauty, the rush skyward,
the descent into the dust
that will reclaim us all.


Inspired by Laura M. Kaminski’s Ghazal with lines from The Book of Flight and Luisa A. Igloria’s Trusting the process.