Ten million angels bow to your command

Yet here you lie diminished in the straw

The tongue that spoke the universe to be

Is silent, and our tongues are stilled with awe.

We clutch and grasp to magnify ourselves

Yet you let go of all your being's might

Our smallness to endure, becoming less

Than we would bear, to bring our darkness light.

This is the mystery the ages hid

Nor men nor angels could suppose or scan

But now its wonder is revealed to us

The miracle of God becoming man.

Lynne Tait 1999