Fair souls arrive at home at last
Their trials and labors in the past.
What joys transcending joy amaze
When on the face of God they gaze.
The Ancient One upon His throne,
The Son of Man upon His own,
Between Them, Love Himself, the Lord,
Are not by faith, but sight, adored.
The elders praise the One in Three,
Their crowns thrown down upon the sea.
The thrones are borne on cherubim.
The hosts of heaven sound the hymn.
And when the trumpet fills the skies
The human body shall arise,
And eyes that once sought vanity
See, all unveiled, the Trinity.
That day, all mistiness will clear
From taste and touch, from eye and ear,
And those who lived by love and grace
Shall plainly see Him face to face.
c. 2019 Kathleen Pluth