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.