Advent to Candlemas (Vol. 4)

Journeys

Across the barren plain
From which hills look the same
Where camel tracks are rough
And sand shifts just enough
To bring disaster
I sleep in stolen shade
Then as the shadows fade
I see the comet's glow
Drawing me on to follow
Even faster.

One night without a word
Our disparate routes converged,
Our camels formed a string
Our separate wandering
Woven into a band:
And as we looked ahead
To check what we had read
At once the comet flared
Before it disappeared
At journey's end.

Dawn roseate and calm,
Promising Winter warm,
We took our cargo down
And each item was shown
To be exquisite:
Gold for a kingly price,
Incense for sacrifice,
Myrrh for the tomb fresh hewn,
The comet had not shown,
Ending the visit.