Epiphany Poem by Jacob Bearer

'...they returned by another road' (Mt.2: 12) .

We are a constellation of wills,
fire consuming,
pale to brooding blues and purple dull.

The hooks of a thousand dense masses
disembowel our godly trunks -
thin our fire dint to dull black;
Fate's calm and circuitous zodiac.

On that begotten night,
three ancient magi trace
an envied star, original -

a condensed communion, a million candles bright,
reveals Fate's greying figure
shows forth a fresh born center -

a foreign kosmos beckoning...
that united star circling a king's gravity,
those wise men with arrowed wills
fall
prostrate before the throne.

The course of their inner astronomy
journeys by a revolutionary way
that turns upon an axis
resting in his Mother's arms.