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
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