A poem for Epiphany

Photo by Anastasia Taioglou on Unsplash

The Spirit comes in the ordinary, material, everyday.
In water.
In touch.
In names.
Tearing open the heavens from time to time,
but just as often
p‧e‧e‧l‧i‧n‧g back the corner
just enough to p‧e‧e‧k
“Taste and see” — “sip and glimpse”
And then she leaves the corner loose —
it doesn’t go back down as tightly as before–
so “heaven” keeps spilling out onto ordinary things,
revealing their holiness
an everyday Epiphany.
Epiphany every day.