The Day of Epiphany
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
W.B. Yeats
Twelfth Night and I have now laid the Christmas tree and all its precious
ornaments to rest, - wrapped in tissue, and passing through my hands together with the memories of where each angel, each Santa, each glistening bird came from.
I started early with Christmas decorations, nostalgic for Christmases past
as we made this new home our own.
No great Twelfth Night Party here tonight, but somehow I have
this wonderful feeling of Epiphany - Epiphany as light and manifestation
and something akin to the feeling that September brings.
The summer is over, as is the great festival of Christmas. and there is a
feeling of energy and enthusiasm and plans.
The house has a aura of simplicity, - the Christmas table has been shortened, the white linens put away, along with the silver and the company dishes.
I have a little list of things to do. I know from experience that all of them
will not get done, but that's o.k., - I will prioritize them according to
pleasure and expediency and the light that each one
of them will bring into our lives.
I have left the stained glass angel and the two snowflakes
hanging in the window, and the amaryllis, along with the white hellebores
I couldn't resist. They will cheer the path to spring and daffodils.