The fury of perfect Love The Holy One of Israel Jealous for his creation Riding on the clouds Sword swift as a storm Hair ablaze Blast from his mouth King of Kings and Lord of Lords Written on his thigh Redeemer, Judge, King Slain, the Lamb Returning the Lion Yes, the One who wept Yes, the One who healed Yes, the One who died But also the One who Took the time to weave a whip And cleanse the temple Fierce in glory and purity Pure anger against evil This is your King The river will flow from the throne Yes, the trees will bear healing fruit But not before the great battle The invincible commander His holy host in formation The perfect army Obedient angelic host And the spirits of righteous men made perfect This is who all will see Breaking through the skies Descending out of an unseen realm Even now the veil thins Even now he weaves another whip For only a spotless bride will suffice Bitter herbs, then sweet Be purged church Prepare to enter the court of the King Stephen Pursell, 9/04 |   |
Home > 2004 Poems >