Epiphany
I intended a peregrine—
it arrived at Godspeed.
There had been a dearth of peregrines you see.
I longed for eagles
and after many years, they returned to us
in abundance,
dancing on air streams,
spiraling courtships high in the air
then talons clasped
plummeting then
nesting in white pines.
After a dry season
our mountain ash bows with orange fruit
whereupon flocks of eager waxwings
gorge on orange berries this cold winter day.
I intended for the Holy Spirit to descend
in this season of epiphany
and its fire entered me and surrounded me
as a haze around Saturn in the
evening sky just above the horizon line.
It glowed unearthly bright that night.
On epiphany, my wishes and intentions are
for peregrines, eagles, waxwings
and the little Holy Child to stay with me
as eagles play in the airstreams,
as trees burst with nurture
and brightness forms our days.
Excerpted from my book, Sophia's Lost and Found: Poems of Above and Below
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