"He was dancing with the bride,
when he became aware of her,
unobtrusive at his side.
They have no more wine she said.
And the dance came to a halt
as he looked into her face,
saw her eyes speak worlds of love,
cosmic beckoning in the deep space
Filigrees of fear, of wonder,
plucked like fingers at his heart.
Lady, (and it sounded like
he was addressing royalty),
it is not my time.
His gaze remaining locked with hers,
he saw within the wet depth
of her woman's tears, himself:
upwelling, surging, and emerging
in a second birth.
Is it? was his whisper
and it hung between them, quivering
Then he caught her, strong embrace,
and turned to seek his Father's face
before opening the door
to the beginning of his life,
the outpouring of himself,
in this, the first of many signs.