Gerhard Richter, Candle Kerze, 1982
Oil on Canvas, 100 cm x 100 cm
Museum Frieder Burda, Baden-Baden, Germany
Epiphany
No land
line connects
me to the higher
power, so I sit,
hands folded,
my thumbs
pressed together
like the closed church
doors, the other
fingers angling
to make a steeple.
I want to rattle
the man dozing
beside me, shake
from him how
he holds fast
in the waiting,
while my candle
burns through
the long winter
nights like that star
beckoning the Wise
Men so soon
to come, armed
with gifts. A cup
I make
of my hands.
The host at last
I take,
then I am.
© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas
___________________________
Audio Recording of Epiphany by mdoallas
This poem is my response to Marcus Goodyear's invitation at Books & Culture: A Christian Review to share an epiphany, in the form of a short story or a poem, in a blog post or a public FaceBook post. The title of Marcus's post containing the challenge is "Only Zombies Worship Styrofoam Jesus".
Anyone may respond to the challenge. Post a link to your contribution on the Books & Culture FaceBook wall by December 15. Marcus will read all stories and poems and comment on as many as possible; Books & Culture editor John Wilson will comment on the best entries. In the New Year, during the first week of Epiphany, Books & Culture will feature a poem or story of choice.
Of Related Interest
Meaning and History of Epiphany
Anglicans Online Epiphany Resources
Catholic Encyclopedia Explanation of Epiphany
Gerhard Richter Paintings: Candles
Of Related Interest
Meaning and History of Epiphany
Anglicans Online Epiphany Resources
Catholic Encyclopedia Explanation of Epiphany
Gerhard Richter Paintings: Candles
Really great poem. A lot of imagery used. Excellent.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful Maureen. There is so much serenity and acceptance for me in your words.
ReplyDeletethank you.
My reading differed slightly from your reading. "me to the higher power" I read as an isolated line, and thought of it figuratively with a mathematical distinction (like 10 to the 12th power). Nice image—me to the higher power. Altogether nice. "I take, then I am." Love that. A proper answer to Descartes. Grateful.
ReplyDeleteAh, I remember. Excellent capture of the details and the feeling. As always, love your phrasing.
ReplyDeleteIt is delicious to hear you speak these words. How are you able to keep your elegant composure while passionately frustrated?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and honest.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem, Maureen. I love the painting that you paired it with, too.
ReplyDeletei can see the hands...
ReplyDeleteSuch a strong visual from childhood days in the hands and adult days in the cupping.
ReplyDeletethis is heavenly and honestly touched my spirit.
ReplyDeletePowerful ending, Maureen. I simply love Advent.
ReplyDeleteOh my. This is utterly compelling. This is Advent.
ReplyDeleteGood work here, Maureen. I especially like the image of praying hands like a church with closed doors--it's nostalgic and a little tragic at the same time.
ReplyDelete