No More the Veil

Beyond the veil, the Maker waits,

Adorned in shining yellow light.

An inner sanctuary bright,

Sweet balm that every longing sates.

 

Before the veil, I stand and gaze

And long to venture toward His side,

To never feel the need to hide–

But I’m a wretch of sinful ways.

 

Then to my right I glance and see

The Son, Who’s robed, exalted, and crowned,

At the incense altar, kneeling down

With love to intercede for me.

 

Back to the veil I turn my eyes

And gasp when I see something new:

That heavy curtain torn in two–

Now all around the glory shines.

 

With gentle voice He now beckons–

And all at once do I forget

The dirty chains that I let

Restrain me from His presence.

 

Then to the Father’s side I flee,

And jump into His open arms.

Here He guards against every harm.

I am where I was made to be.

 

He gave Himself, He tore the veil,

He fought the foe and won the fight,

He by His blood washed us pure white–

O! His great love will never fail.

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About A Daughter's Story

I'm an author and a teacher exploring the world and the stories and ideas it holds.
This entry was posted in Mostly Theological, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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