The world we inhabit is built on cycles of life and death and rebirth. We bear witness through unseeing eyes to the rise and fall and return of the moon, the tides, the seasons, our bodies. Yet resurrection remains a brutal story from a book we read once that we think bears no resemblance to our lives; to be observed with a toss of the head or chocolate bunnies.

April fools are some of my favourite pagans. The term a quaint shaming that dates back to the 16th century when annual inception was pushed from Spring back into midwinter by cardinals with other designs on power.

January 6th rings on the calendar as Epiphany. Its roots far more ancient than the Christian celebration of the Magi who followed a star. Far more seditious than storming the capital of ailing empire. Far more prophetic than either lets on. Ancient wise ones scryed these past twelve omen days, throwing bones in darkness to deliver cryptic keys and clues to the year ahead, falling like snowflakes brief and silent.

In the 1920s Dr Dolittle introduced us to the fantastically perplexing creature, the lesser known Pushmi Pullyu. It boasted two heads at each end of its body, each with a mind of its own. Its remarkable form was built on both magic AND on the coordination and cooperation of opposites, requiring one part of the creature to be moving backwards in order for it to get anywhere.

The world we inhabit is built on cycles of life and death and rebirth. We bear witness through unseeing eyes to the rise and fall and return of the moon, the tides, the seasons, our bodies. Yet resurrection remains a brutal story from a book we read once that we think bears no resemblance to our lives; to be observed with a toss of the head or chocolate bunnies.

In Japan there is a pottery technique known as kintsukuroi. When a handcrafted something falls or breaks, it is sutured back together with gold creating a new piece with an utterly unique shape and form. It is considered even more beautiful for having been broken.