Epiphany

The sixth of January is the traditional day of Epiphany in the Western Church, the last day of Christmas, and the day I generally begin to think about taking the tree down. Note the ambivalence.

An epiphany is also a realization, a sudden insight, a new take on things. Which seem to me a perfect use of the metaphor of the arrival of the Magi. The arrival of wisdom. A new opening in a universe of understanding. A perfect image for the beginning of the year.

Eliot's poem here describes a journey taken, a new idea glimpsed. But it seems the sight has shaken the comfort from their lives and drenched them in dissatisfaction. Which is the danger of epiphanies. You don't always know what to do with them.

If you follow the link below, you can listen to Eliot himself read this marvelous poem of the dark days of discovery in January.


The Journey of the Magi


T.S. Eliot

"A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The was deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices.:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

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