Poetry

In a vision once I saw a pretty damsel
as she did sing
with the purest mezzo-soprano voice
before the King,
while a multitude of holy angels
were listening
and there was divine magic in the air,
selfless love and tenderness in God’s stare;

in utter holy dread, the living and dead
had been changed,
were in accompaniment rejoicing;
voices rearranged
they sang the song of Moses and the Lamb,
great and estranged,
that moment did feel as of the purest bliss,
nothing I had experienced as this.