Not the woman at the well
Nor even Mary at the tomb
Nor his friends at Emmaus
Stopping for food and drink
Recognized him at first
Nor do I so often passing
How do we not see
What is right before us
Must be the first mystery
I mean like water into wine
When you first taste it
A pause in the conversation
As you take a mouthful
Looking over at the bride
Seeing what love is worth
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