Epiphany, poetry by Stephen Kingsnorth at Spillwords.com



written by: Stephen Kingsnorth


This was the first, met spoken Word,
of players demythologised.
Epiphany to me at least,
a caravan entrenched in sand,
as seekers of new star bogged down,
of graphic Zoroastrians,
who took the hump, cold comfort nights,
their awning dawning, wake up call.

Did Matthew – wise adopted name –
write for a readership of Jews,
that gentile flock towards their God,
or was it universal claim,
that aliens saw where others blind?

Ariel view, tense future past,
the end of magic in three trees –
so Sycorax might testify –
as this old sage finds death awaits,
cribbed lines, divines who wrote before,
travelogue printed just in time.

The numinous unstable fare
if God incarnate born to die.



After “Journey of the Magi” by T.S. Eliot

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