Theophany, January 19

They cut the ice

             three men with chainsaws

the shape of a cross

             a hut close by

with an electric heater.

Blessing the small pond

             so that the congregation

can step slowly down

             into the freezing water.

A revelation, of sorts

             though for me it

was always just so

             cold, first the plunge

then rising into the

same sharp January air.

A revealing of what?

             Perhaps it doesn’t matter.

Maybe the action of

             sinking and rising and

sinking and rising and

             sinking and rising is

enough on its own.

             Maybe the point of

the ritual is just

             to warm yourself afterwards

shivering next to others.