Silence hangs in heaven like a thick cloud,
Seven angels accept their trumpets,
Incense is given to an angel,
along with the prayers of God’s people,
for the censer in the angel’s hand
comes before the golden altar
in front of God’s holy throne.
Smoke billows like a dense fog,
A sweet aroma fills the air,
The murmurs of many prayers rise
like a symphony before God’s throne,
It is hurled it down to earth in force
Lightning strikes, thunder cracks, ground shakes.
Four angels sound the trumpets,
Down comes hail and fire mixed with blood,
A blazing mountain thrown in the sea,
A star falls from the sky like a torch,
Part of the sun and moon turn dark,
An eagle speaks Woe! Woe! Woe!
For worse is yet to come on Earth…
This poem is inspired by Revelation 8.
I felt nothing spectacular,
As I entered the cathedral,
I saw nothing supernatural,
Nothing good and nothing evil.
Then, as if my eyes were opened,
I noticed angels—six in all,
Standing still as if frozen,
Each measuring twenty feet tall.
Their appearance was like glass,
Their backs arched against beams,
They watched over our mass,
It felt like a waking dream.
Then, a thought leaped in my mind,
If His messengers inspire such awe in me,
How will I feel when my life is resigned,
And I stand in the presence of God The Almighty?
When [the Son] had cleansed us from our sins, he sat down in the place of honor at the right hand of the majestic God in heaven. This shows that the Son is far greater than the angels, just as the name God gave him is greater than their names. —Hebrews 1:3-4 NLT
© 2015 Kim Bond
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