Declared by wonders in the sky,
Wise men saw a king was nigh.
Trusting in their ancient art,
They got ready to depart
Across the vast and burning sand
To a distant promised land.

A mighty convoy was prepared
To ensure they made it there,
With treasures, mounts, supplies and troops
To fend off nomad raiding groups.
Tents to shield from brutal heat
And nightly chills that oft repeat.

After months through harsh terrain,
Despite discomfort, cold and pain,
At last they reached the royal court
To see the newborn king they sought.
The old king flatters them a while,
With subtle knives behind his smile.

“Of course we’ll worship this new king
As soon as you’ve confirmed this thing.
In Bethlehem was prophesied
The birth of our great nation’s guide.
Pay your respects, then bring back news
That we can share with all the Jews.”

With joy refreshed and strength renewed,
And packs refilled with royal food,
They journeyed on to that small town
(Soon to be of great renown),
Above them that celestial sign
Guides them in one final time.

With reverence they find their goal
Beside the slumbering lamb and foal.
Despite the stench, the holy sight
Fills their souls with peace and light.
Their treasured offerings now seem
Paltry in that glorious gleam.

They stay a while, discuss the worth,
The meaning of this wondrous birth,
All that’s heralded this thing,
A pauper’s home for this great king?
What will he be and do for all,
That has the heavens so enthralled?

Their spirits countlessly enriched,
Return to where their tents are pitched,
And as they rest, a herald warns
Of plots against this pure newborn.
To thwart this foul insidious wrath,
They packed and took a stealthy path.

“This all our fathers saw and knew,
Most honoured gospel scribe Matthew.
We know their tale is one small part
Of a greater work of art.
Now we have helped you as we ought,
Please tell us all He did and taught?”