Gifts in Times of Danger

A poem for the Magi and recognizing the Divine in times of terror

It was hard to believe him:
there is no king who willingly kneels before another,
especially if that king is a small child.

Nevertheless, we followed that star along dusty paths and dangerous roads,
until it stopped,
over a house,
just like every other house surrounding.

It was difficult to know what to expect when we found him,
asleep on his mother’s breast.
Did he know what was coming?
How could he, swaddled and loved as he was.

But we knew what we could expect for him,
a child named a threat before he could even hold up his head.

And so we kneeled down to the mother,
she seemed almost to be expecting us
We kneeled down to the sleeping child,
his face reflecting all that is Divine.

And we offered our gifts:
frankincese and myrrh to aid the mother’s healing,
all the faster to get on the move.
Gold to fuel the race for their lives through foreign lands

And yet, despite the urgency,
we did not feel fear.
We would have expected the fear.

No, instead we were overwhelmed with joy,
because despite
the danger
that lie ahead

We knew.

We knew.
that everything was different now.
Everything had changed.

We left our gifts and took our leave.

It was time to go,
and yet we were already home.

So we did not go back the way we came.

There is no king who willingly kneels before another,
and this small child,
tiny and delicate,
marked as miracle,
held majesty greater than any monarch.

We count down the stars,
but kings should now count down their time.

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