Today I surrender strategies for success,
step out of shiny shoes of pride,
and remove my cloak of imagined influence.
Vulnerable as a naked newborn, I seek shelter
in a field so green that a single fallen sparrow
disturbs the scene like a shout in a cathedral
where one can hear the candles burn.
Safe in the shadow of lilies, lamb’s wool white,
I breathe Thy majesty and might.
Tonight with faith they haste to find
a Savior and a certain sign—
Christ the future sacrifice—
swaddled, as the angel said,
in wool-soft bands and lying in a manger.
These are they prepared
to spread the word abroad—
This day is born the Lamb of God.