We can’t be sure when the Magi arrived
Or where
But if they hadn’t arrived at all
They still would have arrived because they began
Even if their bones in the desert disappeared

We can’t be sure of the meanings in their gifts
Or why
But if they had been stolen
The gifts would still have been given anyway
Because the Magi gave themselves to Him

We can’t be sure of most things, only of the journey
And the journey always leads to where He is