The wonderful thing about epiphany is that it belongs to us all-- the junkman singing "Ave Maria" at three in the morning, the teenage boy reading something in the smile of the girl in the second row, the child looking through a cardboard tube with mirrors and bits of colored plastic. It is one of life's happy paradoxes that we can catch a glimpse of true perfection--God, harmony, the music of the spheres, call it what you will-- in the simplest of...
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Poetry