I drew closer as the angel whispered,
'Come and you shall behold!'
I saw a book with an inlaid cover of precious stones,
And embossed in purest gold.
As he spoke, he turned around,
Placing a crystal key within my grasp,
And all drew silent as the lock sprang open,
And I undid the ivory clasp.
I reached inside and gently removed,
The book from its satin case,
I then let the angel be my guide,
As we left that Holy place.
He soon led me to a carpenter's bench,
And he bid that I sit down,
And pointing to objects on the top,
He said, 'All these in this book are found.'
I stared at and touched the simple things,
That lay across God's table,
But as my mind was only 'finite',
To discover their use, I was not able.
Chisels, paint brushes, dried flowers and twigs,
Many cut-out pics of the LORD,
There were broken shards of pottery, small piles of blackest coal,
A cup of water and a wineskin from which oil was poured.
I marveled as I touched His book,
But then thought there could be NO WAY,
For how could a work so beautiful,
Have inside it, blackened coal and lumps of clay?
Deeply perplexed, I mulled over the mystery,
And turned to the angel to speak,
For surely he knew the clues,
To the answers I did seek.
Then a presence entered silently,
And filled the room with light,
I knew at once that HE was there,
My spirit leaped and danced with delight.
My legs shook and on my knees I fell,
And bowing, I lowered my head in shame,
Then I felt His hand upon my head,
And I looked up when He called My name...