The Epiphany of a King

Note: I wrote this poem for my son Atticus’s first birthday, which coincided with his baptism. 

I summon the symbols to align
Holy birth and holy death
are manifest
in the sacred rhythms of the child

Trumpets blare the eternal plan
heralding the inevitable passage from boy to man
But in the interim–mirrors and masks
Secret potions from the elders’ casks

There will be time to ponder mysteries
to analyze Earth’s vast histories
There will be alterations, reconsiderations
Earthquakes of revelations,
Floods of desire,
Blizzards of confusion,
Friendships forged in fire

But in the now
only a poem exists
framing your tenuous footsteps
fixing your innocent grin

A poem to cast your story in light
A story of spirit and skin

A poem to parallel
the darkest days
and most luminous nights
the epiphany of a king

For Atticus
©2010 Christopher Rager