Perfect new-born baby
From head to tiny toes
With five little fingers stretching
From out the swaddling clothes

High hill, snow gilded
floating silver in the not quite sunlight

Busy water, tripping over
in a headlong strong song of seas calling

No snow
No ice
No holly, mistletoe
No blazing logs
No greeting cards,

I do not understand why Jesus came,
Why this should be God’s plan to make my life
What He desires and bring me back to Him;
I do not understand this way of pain,
Of suffering on a cross, of bitter shame,
How this could make me clean from every sin.