Light from his eyes
Light from his face
Light from his curly soft hair

Light from his fingers
Light from his toes
Lighting the room as he’d glow

In a bed of hay he was born
In a bed of hay to the angel’s song
There wasn’t a breath to be drawn
In a bed of hay
As the animals looked on
The glowing child was born

Joy in his laughter
Joy in his smile
Joy in his holy reverie

Joy in his kisses
Joy in his gaze
Joy filled the room where he lay