And he bade me to follow him, in this glorious dream.
His robe was washed white, and his beard, and his hair;
His thoughts I did know, though not a word did I hear.
As he beckoned, I followed, to the holiest mount;
My heart beating faster, than man could ere count.
For I knew where he'd take me...our minds in accord;
The angel would take me, to see Jesus, my Lord.
To the top of the mountain, without effort we rose;
Where rivers and fountains of everlasting life flows.
Overcome by his presence, I fell at his feet;
As I worshipped and praised him, in his majesty.
In his glory, his power, I laid prostrate in awe;
Overwhelmed by the love in his eyes, that I saw.
He inquired of my ring, as he lifted me toward;
And I answered, "It is the ring, that you gave me, Lord."
The ring my Lord asked of, was on my right hand;
A signet ring, it was, I did now understand.
A symbol of who, through his death, he made me;
God's daughter, who inherited his authority.
I awoke, crying over and over, "Jesus, my Lord!"
In the presence of God, my spirit had soared.
To my spirit he spoke words, not yet to be heard;
In time, I will hear them, my heart is assured.
I will live now to praise him, the King of all Kings;
To the slain Lamb of God, my heart and soul sings.
In his presence, on earth and in heaven, I'll be;
How wonderful, how glorious, how majestic is he!
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Copyright 2001�������������� ������ D. Suzanne Collins
