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Our trade is with the future as a rule, charting the bright courses, channels, navigations of the distant lighted vessels of the heavens, probing through the viscera of sacrificial beasts, observing birds in flight, relating visions of the night to what will come to pass in days and years ahead. This white and mobile star, however, tells us nothing of what is to be, directs the sight instead toward what is. I mean the present, here and now, and what, or better who, is born within this tight yet waking moment. The Presence of new life awaits our presence and the precious gifts we too might bear inside the stable of the self.

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