I stand where thunder whispers Holy,

where living creatures sing of Glory.

A sea of glass like crystal lies,

reflecting fire and countless cries.

Their eyes see all- no secret kept,

where crowns are cast and knees have wept.

And there- a Lion stands, a Lamb once slain,

His wounds like daggers, breaking every chain.

He holds the scroll, the One worthy to reveal,

His blood the ink that break the seal.

He paid the price for every tribe,

so we could live as one, forever by His side.

Weeping turns to songs of praise,

as ten thousand tongues like rivers raise.

The elders bow as crowns are cast,

their voices roar, ‘Worthy is the Lamb, the First and Last!’

And here I stand- a single voice among the throng,

joining in the endless song.

I lay my crown where praise begun, at the throne of the Risen Son,

for who can keep a crown on while kneeling to the One?

• A revelation 4&5 Poem