The lamb, the gate, His Glory

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The blood of the lamb, a precious pool
A loving sacrifice beyond mortal ken
Defiled by the wolf, the fang and claw rule
Of the ravenous over the children of men

When will comfort be brought to them
Whose wait for the spirit be so entrusted
To those who would interpose yet again
The vain trappings after which they’ve lusted?

The priceless pearl, barnacle encrusted
Its hidden beauty spurned in every land
The downcast mirror, its surface dusted
Yearning for His cleansing hand

O, to enter by the city’s new gate,
The Glory of God to contemplate.

-Azamat, 157 B.E.

© Larry Kenneth Gates 1999

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