Best Epiphany Poems
When rainstorm shadows
cast raven woven blankets,
entangling between
the boundaries of
fantasy and reality's reach,
we search for soft glows
from serenades of slumber,
where we embrace
the quilt of night.
In restless dreams
a dandelion soul yearns
to reside within the realms
of conscious thought.
Traversing towards
an enchanting valley
where fields of lilacs
and bluebells surround,
laying foundations
for rows of charismatic
cherry blossoms,
peacefully resting
among a myriad
of kaleidoscopic roses.
Above, azure horizons
reveal the naked sun,
whose radiance shimmers
upon sapphire waters,
delicately blowing
a refreshing breeze.
Lucid choral images
illuminate the mind,
with visions of
an ethereal epiphany -
too difficult to define.
Her heavenly muse
echoes a majestic lullaby,
beckoning hallelujah hearts
to oblige in beats of
unexplainable expressions,
so suppressed thoughts
bleed in turquoise waterfalls.
Barren lands
soak in reflection,
as distance decreases.
Eyes admire in
a silent reverie.
Enticing two isolated
soulful minds to
chant in a chorus
of hummingbird hymns.
An abundance of
amorphous aromas
enchant and enrapture,
as senses blaze into
passionate provinces
of aurora aspirations.
A ruby renaissance of
rhapsodic romantic
musings reverberate
string less symphonies
into the once,
charcoal chambers of a
redeemed, fluorescent
lyrical couplet core.
In ivory harmonies,
venturing upon a pearled path
not known to lovers before,
beloveds search for
a secret garden -
home to Michelangelo's
cathedral of paradise,
yearning to savour its
celestial artistic ambience,
but upon the
zenith of enticement,
unwelcome Lilith skies
slyly and silently encroach.
Heaven recalls her
halo shaped silhouette,
as petals agitated
by spiteful winds
fall into murky waters.
Feathers remain,
floating helplessly in
puddles of regret.
Smoke clears,
as clarity reveals
white concrete walls
with broken blinds.
Nature's beams
breathe a deep sigh.
How sad,
time does not care
for our dreams.
The first crystal drop
of realization
shatters your glassy surface
and radiates the idea outward
in reflective ripples growing in concentric circles
with the newness of being thought of for the very first time..
one drop
follows another
in a thoughtful cascade
and a thrilling commingling of contemplative resonance
skimfully intersects on a liquescent wavelength -
like a collection of Chinese linking rings
smoothly passing through each other
exchanging enchantment and casting their own brand of magic
in lucid fluidity across the suffused surface
of your soulful depths;
that -
in this most
precious of moments -
revels in revealing the answers you seek.
Susan Ashley
July 28, 2018
A lie, wrapped in deception, in the cloak of silent nights
Deception, soothing as black ink, until dried
The wetness caresses the illusion of pretenses white
When it dries, one is exposed to the evil dark fright
A lie inside a lie inside a lie, inside the Pandora’s box
Unwrap it all you will witness the sly red fox
Run from the forest that consumes the noble heart
Lay your eyes on the Gothic inspired cathedral ceilings
From there, is but heavens start
As the symphony plays the rhapsody of life
Remember always the deceiver for his bringing strife
Raise your hands like a conductor of brave hearts
Speak up and speak out, when you see the silent
Darkness bring you illusions in the night
Beware of the dark lamb, and hold up the noble light
With ethereal dreams, one day you know what is right
"The Epiphany Rose"
All well and good,
the story unfolds;
the isolating madness
drew out the poets
in all the shunned
playing up and out
their origami
word games
something like
an epiphany rose
in them, the mad,
recalcitrant ones,
like nuns leaving
the genuflecting aisles
turning backs
before all their
starched alters
dripping idols
no longer really there,
they were somewhere
outside of It all;
the closed rose
turned around
to walk as one,
out the doors
into the blazing sun
finding some
strange reunion,
peeling off their
dark layers,
their novitiate
romance, their
too hot habits
disgarded
under indigo sky
of long dark nights,
reeling in the dream
like cotton thread
from a spinning wheel,
strange Ezekial creatures,
their nakedness
witnessed like
whirling dervish
calling in revolutions,
the expected extracted
arriving in the rolling clouds
another kingdom comes
swiftly opening
minds like roman candles
exploding like spiders
across the stars…
the timeless road
is now wide open
and well lit
(Ladylabyrinth / 2023)
"…the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…”
(Keroac)
"Wherever the spirit would go, they would go, and the wheels would rise along with them, because the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels. When the creatures moved, they also moved; when the creatures stood still, they also stood still; and when the creatures rose from the ground, the wheels rose along with them, because the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels."
(Ezekial)
“Oh, honey my life and it's got me old fool gold
In the gold dust rush I can only genuflect
Oh, honey my life and it's got me old fool gold
In the gold dust rush
In the gold dust rush
Honey it is horrible
(In the gold dust rush)
There's locusts in there
She's got the old fool gold …"
(Cocteau Twins)
"The Meditative Rose"/Dali
Written: January 12, 2024
__________________________________
Their buzzing goes unabated
the cool air scent of lavender
in this unfathomable cosmos
where dreams are fulfilled,
a smidgeon of silver wind
utterly enthralled.
Within the icy voids of
aching and colorless hues
raven-inhabited remnants
vulnerable grays
aesthetic fog, fanciful yarns
dissipating wood smoke
whispers of winter, as dusk falls
dawn in monochrome
amidst gentle chimes
traces of an emotional waltz
oblivion is grieved in silence
a blackbird with ruby wings!
The colors of the trees
Iridescent in appearance
create a stunning scene
that is incredibly fortunate
this is a poetic domain
where lilts joyfully chortle
the trees gently move
and the dryads are overjoyed
the heart of lullabies
with brilliant opals
giving wandering spirits hope
back in their house labyrinth
Scarlet nests were seen on high boughs
romantic place where calm blooms.
With the hearth of lullabies
opals that are flaming
soul-directing the wayward.
they're back in their home maze.
nests of crimson grew snugly.
among the boughs, exalted.
a sanctuary for love.
wherever there is harmony,
exquisitely halcyon arbors
colorful tapestry with wonderful beauty
Iridescent sky with gorgeous hues
In this magical setting, dreams bloom
where nature's splendor is eternal,
calmly, trees swing, and the dryads spin.
Life & abusive substance
Power too.. 'Misuse' in abundance.
Strength to choose is inside us
The keys to use beside us
Darkness pervades,
Conspiracy is it a truth?
Are lies more feel?
Or 'good' really a factor?
Here’s to morals!
Remnants of character,
The stages of opportunity
unplayed as yet..
And leaders aspiring unto
The integrity of actors.
©Joe Maverick 9/12/2014
I realize limitation
Is an illusion.
My destiny is without
Boundary.
Looking,
Beyond death. Beyond the periphery
Eternal Incarceration
Cosmic chaos is cooking...
Infinite combinations
In infinite situations
Attuned yet unaware,
A universe of oppositions
Frequency and energy
Space, matter
A spiraling dichotomy.
an ascending epiphany.
11-27-14
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CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK, (pos. or neg.) CRITIQUES, OR ANY SUGGESTIONS
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describe the feelings or ideas my poem invoked or left in feeling or thought.
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When I first started writing poetry,
rarely with new thoughts; almost always rhyme.
But often I felt so amazed to see
those poets who were writing all the time!
I asked one gal whose muse kept bringing luck
to her so often, “Just what do you do
to keep your flow and keep from getting stuck?
I want to write as often as do you,
but feeling blocked these days has been my plight!"
Her answer – my epiphany! She said,
“Take challenges and just sit down and WRITE!
Don’t worry. Thoughts will pop into your head.”
I did just that! Years later I well know
to simply simmer thoughts, then let them flow!
Aug. 16, 2022
For The Epiphany That Changed Your Life Forever Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
The sound rushing into my ears,
Flowing into my every vein,
Feel every cell vibrating,
In unison.
That feeling of ecstasy,
The rush, catches my breath,
Musical melody.
As I close my eyes,
And let it wash over me,
It cleanses, purifies,
All the anger, hurt
That lay buried deep inside.
The tunes reverberate,
Through my very soul.
It's hard to imagine,
So much joy,
From a few notes on a page.
But it makes me dance,
To tunes that only..
I hear.
Swimming in the light;
Rowing etheric rivers,
Soul upon its’ quest.
Color my epiphany
A heavenly tranquil blue.
Well it's sad to say, that this ugly duckling
never grew into anything more than an ugly duck
Written: July 30, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
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The carnival dazzles—
mirific mosaics of midway magic
woven with whimsical calls from barkers
who strut boldly on boards
slick with popcorn oil and neon promises.
I, the aficionado of the absurd,
immerse myself in spectacle masquerading as
celebration,
a Falstaffian extravaganza,
a sockdolager of strobe-lit sensation,
where circus rages as horology gone amok—
clockwork chaos camouflaged as joy.
Here, even dyspnea dances:
lungs tight from laughter,
feet blistered on the boards
where the locals jive
to tunes sung in xenoglossia tones—
languages lost or learned
in the jamboree of jest.
We picnic beneath paper moons
and eat Easter-colored candy
as if Lent were long forgotten—
in this nefarious fair,
Time adumbrates indulgence.
I stumble past scantling booths
where prizes lean akin to broken teeth
and prayers cast unanswered
in the apiary buzz of sugar-rushed view.
One iconoclast offers nepenthe in a cup
with carbonation and broken fortunes—
And in that moment,
an epiphany unfolds as a palimpsest,
laughter scrawled over ancient pain,
glee grafted onto grief.
There is no paucity of pain here,
only its parody—
a meritorious mimicry
for those who can bear the weight
and yet select the lighter path.
A temporary guest of the night,
I own nothing,
but borrow every flicker of joy—
every flick of flame from the festival's fire,
every tune from the gala laughter.
Even illeism fades in festal light,
where I am not the observer,
but the observed,
not just the poet,
but the poem itself,
drawn toward this lodestone of longing.
And at last, beneath Ferris wheel stars,
I whisper into the abyss—
a cognate cry to the cosmos
_The feast is fleeting
but oh, how glorious
the festival finished?
you’ve passed by this intersection enough times to know whose light turns green after
you’ve had those petty fights enough times to know that neither of you really mean what you say
you’ve been in this traffic jam enough times to know that it was actually better to take the other route
and you didn't take the other route enough times to know that you always, somehow, make the wrong choices
you’ve broken up with the same lover enough times to know that the break-up isn’t really a break-up
you've messed up your life enough times to know that you might be the problem
you’ve known you were the problem enough times to realize that you probably can’t do better
you've apologized for the same mistake enough times to know that you’re not actually sorry
you’ve made the same promise enough times to know that you can’t really fulfill it
you’ve heard the same line over and over enough times to know that it’s never going to get better
but there is no such thing as enough.
and you’ve said that enough times too.
Written: January 09, 2024
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Seen through a sepia scale
Drab grief, of hiemal cradle
mirthless, a desolate land
shrouded in frozen doldrums,
amid solemn ripples
on threnody and sizzle
akin to a gentle sway
with a oneiric, susurrous
tambourine wave of yore
rain whistles in tune
of doodles in gold and silver.
Swells of silk
of a hypnotic spell—origami
wispy petrichor wafts!
It was tender
ignominious mayhem
of withering earth
sadly surprised
amidst golden neon notes
and vermilion,
as stricken soil stirs.
And flushes in luscious tones
of singing and crystals
as daffodils and clover bloom
amidst webs of aurelian curls
a fairy's rhapsody,
let spring song rise!
each seed that is still alive
hope will sprout subtly,
to refuel the soul
from the cosmic womb.
Wars will hinder any way to harmony
and allegiance to nations
Earth is our vast home
we purport as world healers
send me a melody
smoother than embers
we're rooted in clay
as melody with thawing knack
once I visualized piano tunes,
each tone evoked anguish
yet, our sonata is harmless
paramount of my persona
beyond brink of kismet
we ought to sigh and cry
sultry concerto
In a garden labyrinth.
EPIPHANY - Acrostic
They came from the East, the three wise men,
Following a star that Prophesied a King,
A Shepherd of Israel Immanuel his name, in a
Stable in Bethlehem Precious gifts and adoration.
'I'd like to worship!', Herod declared.
Until in a dream the Astrologers were warned.
God’s gift of love for New Year, as foretold,
is Christ the heart of Yuletide and light of the world.
by Jean McLoughlin