Epiphany

What did they see
As this caravan of eastern travellers
Passed by their doors?

Foreigners and strangers,
To be treated with suspicion
And quickly moved on to someone else’s town?

Dreamers and stargazers
With deluded stories,
Searching for a hero of their own invention?

Purveyors of mystery
Who might fascinate and entertain,
With wonders and stories from lands afar?

And what did they make of their treasures,
Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh?
Riches to be gained by stealth or persuasion?
Contraband to be fenced? Wealth to be resented?
Curiosities to trade or start a conversation?

Could those whose paths crossed theirs
Have ever known or imagined
The hope and salvation
Of which this strangest of journeys was living testimony?

Could anyone have seen that even their baggage
Was a sign of God’s coming, disguised in human flesh?

And what might be seen
In the gifts I offer, the person I am
And the pathways I follow?

By that same miracle of grace
That brought travellers from afar,
To the home of a forgotten family;
May your presence be glimpsed
And your love be made known
In my frail efforts to follow your star.

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