God manifest in flesh, oh wonder to behold!
Creative power within the breast that felt the blast of cold.
God in our likeness made, oh may we understand
The One who made the wondering worlds appear as lowly man!
He stood within the realm He fashioned with a thought;
His creatures gazed upon Him; alas they knew Him not,
They cried out for His blood, His claims cast down as dross,
They spat upon His princely face, then nailed Him to a cross.
BUT He made the tree for that cross of wood,
He made the hill on which it stood,
And in some hidden vein of land
He made the steel that pierced each hand;
He made the sun which hid its face;
He made the fathers of that race
Who, in their hatred knew Him not.
He made the fiends with which He fought,
And there, in death, He made a way
Back to Himself
Eternally.

(Poem by Willie Mullan)

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