At Epiphany each year
I think of the Magi
who foolishly doubted
a star's inspired leading
and went to Jerusalem
to enquire of a king.

A king who was noted
for disposing of claimants
to the crown that he guarded
as if held by glue.

In an instant the destiny
of scores of young children
was wiped out forever
by this one mistake.

Had they read Micah's prophecy
of the birth of a Saviour
they would have reached the stable
as lovers to a tryst

and the Bethlehem children
would have lived life as normal.
The carpenter of Nazareth
would still be the Saviour
and the blackbird have sung
over cradles, not graves.