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In the cathedral of eternity, where time itself kneels in reverence,
Where stars are candles burning on the divine altar on high,
There Jesus, Savior and Sun-giver, makes His presence felt,
In the hearts of Christians - a living temple, an ark of salvation.
Their ocean of faith, a mirror without shores, unforeseen,
Upon its waves, only the Ark of Incarnation glides in peace,
For those who sail aside, compass-less, without Jesus to anchor the tale,
Navigate in false galleons, dreaming of a ray that embraces.
Here, in the palm of Jesus, souls gather like leaves in the wind,
Beneath the lofty dome, where the echo of grace is both melody and hymn,
He, the bread of life, the wine of salvation, shared on mine and your altar,
A sacred bond, transmuting the heart into an ark enshrined with mystery.
In Jesus, walls of the soul rise, surpassing imagination’s hold,
The living stones of His faith, an institution unshaken in purity,
Even in the howl of the tempest, Christians find shelter under reconciliation’s wing,
For they have The One, enrobed in the dawn of deathless love.
In the Gethsemane of other hearts, a prayer fades into whisper,
A shadow, seeking the light, in the maze of a vast doubt,
But Christians dine with God, they know Him by name,
He, their Shepherd, on the path to heaven, and in each shard of dream woven in name.
In their life, each step, a frame of iconostasis where God resides,
The ineffable made flesh, in Jesus, where heaven and earth in a dance are enjoined,
Their altars are hearts aflame, an eternal burning of the terrestrial angel,
In Jesus, the key to liberty, in a sacred chant - an everlasting mysterium.

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