Poetry

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The Father walked the halls alone,
the Light of His Life, to earth had gone.
His angels bowed, as tears flowed down;
their Heavenly Prince, In Heaven, not found.

The Cherubs stood beside the Throne of the Son,
singing Holy Holy, as they had always done.
Though far away, they felt His Presence there,
for the light of His love was everywhere.

Jesus stood in Pilate's hall alone.
The Light of the World, flayed to the bone.
The Son of Man, slapped and abused;
to save His life, He had refused.

They took Him to Golgotha's Hill that day,
nailing Him to the cross, God turned away.
The angels stood, poised for His command;
to save His Son, and kiss His hands.

Forbidden to save Him from the cross,
the Pearl of Great Price, they counted loss.
Created beings, they could not understand;
that God also, loved the soul of man.

The Father called the angels to Him,
the aura around Him, no longer dim.
It's almost time to receive My Son.
The Lamb of God's work on earth is done.

Now, we have lots of work to do;
because of Him, I have other children too.
Prepare the mansions where His sheep will live.
Because He died, their sins, I will forgive.

The Son walks Heaven in a restless pace,
for today, He will seek the Father's face.
He has long awaited His beloved Bride.
It's time now to call her, to His side.

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