The Hall of Days

At the precipice of the universe Within the hollowed halls of time I saw before me a quiet, sacred place Created and ordained, by God Divine. Hovering over a surreal sanctuary Witnessed in my dream like state I watched the slanted, hazy sunlight Filtering through stain glassed plates. Before me, a timeless, ancient room Filled to the brim with endless books Innumerable volumes, row upon row Curiosity enticed me to take a look. I scanned the books, each one unique Some old and dusty, some fresh and new Large and small, books arranged by history Some quite lengthy, some with pages few. Then I noticed the cover of each book Unlike titles I had ever seen before The names of every person ever born With the days of their life, underscored. From beginning to end, every day, numbered And from within, the tale of their lives, written Every day, each word, thought and deed All recorded by the hand of God's pen. I nearly fainted with shock, how could this be? To view the good and the bad, who could stand? But the Lord, by His Spirit, reminded me None could stand, but by the blood of the Lamb. "...And in Thy book they were all written, The days that were ordained for me, When as yet there was not one of them." Psalms 139:16 Written on 4/30/2015