And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, 
until it came and stopped over the place where the child was.
They were overjoyed at seeing the star, 
and on entering the house
they saw the child with Mary his mother.
They prostrated themselves and did him homage.
Then they opened their treasures 
and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, 
they departed for their country by another way.
—Matthew 2:1-12

The star had heralded the dawn
but vanished in the day.
The road that led you there was gone—
you took another way.

The sigil had not ceased to burn;
the star shone out the same,
but you were no more what you were
who'd seen a brighter flame.

Up to that hour you'd known the night,
a sky where all was dim,
and now you stagger in the light—
all you had known dislimns.

The world of starlight breaks apart,
the pieces rearrange.
So, too, the fragments of your heart
beneath the infant's gaze.

You travelled far to look on him;
now he has looked at you:
You breath comes short; your vision swims;
your world is all made new.

And where there were no roads before,
new ways have opened wide.
The world itself an open door
spills out a glorious light.

Adoración de los Reyes Magos by El Greco, 1568 (Museo Soumaya, Mexico City) – Museo Soumaya Plaza Carso, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35846297