As I look back through my poetry folder, I'm surprised to see how many Epiphany poems I have. I've always found the liturgical year and holidays to be fruitful places for inspiration, and Epiphany is particularly rich. You've got a new star, wise people from a distant land, a murderous dictator, a baby whose story we already know, and various types of knowledge (observation, dreams, ancient information).
I often read T. S. Eliot's "Journey of the Magi" as Epiphany approaches; this year, Ross Douthat posted a reading which I like even better than my own internal voice reading the poem. That reading sent me back to my poetry folder, and today I'm posting this poem which draws inspiration from Eliot's. It was written about 10 years ago, and this appearance is its first publication.
Dispensations Old and New
The old dispensation cannot save
you now. Hard and bitter agony.
Eat stones for breakfast, crack
your teeth before sunrise,
it makes no difference.
Suckle the camels who cannot eat cactus,
wait for the silken girls with their sherbet,
No one will sing to you.
You must listen to a different song.
Plug your ears against the angel chorus.
Put away the mandolin and fiddle.
Listen for the star’s quiet plainsong.
Follow the single note.
Leave death’s twilight kingdom.
Enter the deep midnight,
the place you hoped
would be a temporary sojourn.
Learn the new landscape with only
your fingertips for navigation.
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