I’ve enjoyed posting poetry series themed around the Christian year recently (see “Poetry for Lent,” “Poetry for Easter,“ and “Poetry for Ordinary Time“). As a follow-up to the “Poetry for Advent” and “Poetry for Christmas” series, I am continuing that theme with a series called “Poetry for Epiphany.” The season of Epiphany, runs from the end of Christmastide up to the beginning of Lent. Epiphany focuses on the revelation of Jesus and His early life, beginning with the revelation of Jesus as King to the Magi.

I continue this series of Epiphany poetry with R. S. Thomas’ “The Coming.” Thomas was an Anglican priest and a leading Anglo-Welsh poet of the 20th century.

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And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, A river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.

     On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. many People
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.

Source: H’m, © 1972, R. S. Thomas

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Other poems in this series:

T. S. Eliot, “Journey of the Magi”

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Image credit: Imgur.