Well, we're still approaching a definition of the epiphany: there's the Little Epiphany(which makes you go "oh!) and then there's the Big Epiphany(which makes you go AHA!). The movement of the Big Epiphany from the religous sense(seeing God come out of a whirlwind would kind of be a AHA! moment) to the secular sense is generally credited to James Joyce; the Joycean epiphany is where you read along and then suddenly have a "aha!" moment; his short stories in Dubliners are all built around this idea.

Virginia Woolf of course was also highly attuned to the notion of the Little Epiphany, as page 161 of To the Lighthouse explains; how there is no "Great Revelation", but instead "little daily miracles", "matches being struck in the dark."

But even the ancients weren't completely dissociated from the idea of epiphanies within the processes of life; at least as Karen Armstrong has it, with her comments upon ancient agriculture in A Brief History of Myth: " the crop was an epiphany, a revelation of divine energy." The processes of nature, therefore, can be in and of themselves, a facet of divine power.

It is our homework assignment to share our own Aha! moments with literature. It is the experiance that matters, not the telling, when it comes to epiphanies. So than perhaps the task becomes to have the telling be in fact an experiance, or at least as close as this is possible, and it may not be. I don't know. Or maybe this is what Wordsworth was getting at when he defined poetry as "emotion recollected in tranquility".