Epiphany

I was reminded this morning of this poem, published several years ago in Theology Today, a portion of which I posted over at The Year D Project a while back when I ran across it on the web. But here is the whole thing in full, as it appears in The Just, Quiet Wind.

Matthew 2:1-12

The rustling of robes stirs the otherwise steady

rhythm of rustic rumination sends tiny

dust clouds pluming

The girl’s hand subtly fans the fouled air from

her infant’s face gracefully disguising the gesture

with her reach to disclose him

The visitors beam with eyes full of starfirelight

taking the passive child and passing him lightly

with expert elder hands of night

She is weary but welcoming of these trusty travelers

for she knows that they have borne their burdens

for a long time from a long way

Their speech is hushed as they kneel slowly one by one

producing small treasures from inside each chest

but none to match the miracle at her breast nursing

beneath the blue gown of winter ...

  New Kensington, PA;  October 4, 1997 — 

Somewhere along the way, I set this piece to music as well, but again, with no sung melody, just speech. Both poem and music date from the same period as the other "windy" material in question. I'm sure a demo exists, but clearly it didn't quite make the cut when it came to selecting material for the CD.