We asked for signs and followed what we saw
We found it strange the King
was more keen about a baby
than a star.
Before our journey to the birth, gifts once came
with their own requirements and obligations.
To give, really, was to ask.
Soon it was revealed our largesse
was dwarfed by a geography more expansive
than our charts. A gift no longer meant a ledger.
Afterwards I dreamt I saw a despot
licking dust, so we steered our lathered beasts
clear of the City. Sand blew
in our eyes, but we kept our course
for home. Everything was
different: constellations no longer
pointed out the path. We gave up gazing
at the stars for answers. We were haunted
by a fitful flame wavering inside us.