Ahead of them went the star
that they had seen at its rising,
until it stopped over the place where the child was.
Odd star, no?
Rose in the east (all things rise in the east)
but scooted westward for the magi to follow—
Not easy for a star above a rotating planet.
Stopped and stooped, apparently:
low enough to hover over a single house.
A star that nobody else, including Herod,
seems to have noticed.
A rogue star, noncompliant with the laws of stardom.
Step over the ashes of the arguments of the literalists.
Take the story as it is.
The revelation of God will come to you
in ways that make no sense,
cannot be explained, exploited, or replicated—
heck, you can’t even talk about it sensibly.
But it is there, and it shines— in an unassuming baby,
a tender conversation, a healing, a feeling,
a fleeing family, somehow luminous,
a moment when the earth seems to hold you gently,
or just staring out the window and knowing something
unnameable, warm and attractive.
The star will go ahead of you, it will stop over you,
it will wink but not go out. It will go on.
Let your heart be led by the rogue star of God.