As we were tucked away

that night in Bethlehem

to the cattle-fragrant cave

where you gave birth,

angels attended you,

shepherds knelt in wonder,

wise men adored the Child

and paid their homage to you,

almost as if they had known!

Am I not foolish

if I do anything less?

Dare I deny you

what is yours by right?

My lips lack eloquence ---

but they would kiss the ground

blessed by your gentle tread.

Many have called my voice

awkward, halting, slow --- 

and yet my fumbling tongue

would praise you every hour.

I bow my head and bend my knee before you,

in the sight of the Holy, the Immortal;

I place my heart, life, power, in your hands.

My Spouse, my Sovereign,

may my name be used for cursing

if I do not incline my ear to you

in your silence and in your song;

may my bed be sharp with thorns

if I do not serve you faithfully

in your triumph and in your tribulation;

may the water I drink turn to gall

if I do not watch for every chance

to love you, yes, to heed your word.