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