This night the music of the spheres is somehow disarranged; with dissonant surprise one star untunes the sky, sets heaven ajar: the universe is changed. Wise men who know the charts by heart and love the harmony shall find the patterns sent askew: how God now makes the music new for all humanity. The rustic flute falls silent now, its tunes shall go unheard: when night has grown this bright with grace, such earth-bound sounds must lose their place before the angel's word. The shepherd's narrow world grows vast as glorias begin; while God's own voice, wide as the sky, constricts itself into a cry behind a crowded inn. Tonight where sounds of earth intrude with voices rough and wild, the cosmic music stops to catch, and times its rhythms here to match the heartbeat of a child.