Oh Elysium

Oh Elysium of my Lord’s palm
where His fingers reach to grace the dawn,
our souls cleave there in golden recline,
awakened and filled with Your plumes divine,
the habitats of light, pure and sublime.

This is the ascendancy of grace,
an eternal balm of true awakening,
forever blessed in the boundless bounty
of the kindred forever kiss from His will,
found and embraced always
through the loving spread of His empowerment.

And we’ll dream the food of angels,
and we’ll sing the immortal clarity
finally out of our mortal cocoon,
always the cherub at last let to fly
unto the manifold chambers of anointing
that we are called in His predestined will.

Alas in serenity we are dipped
among the legions redeemed
nestled into that nurturing dawn of becoming,
one perfect habitat of sublime perfection.

Through the eons we reside
within the abode of our predestined essence,
by His word thus sealed
into that residence of fulfilling,
a mansion in this world’s mortal frame of reference,
a dwelling place where we at least
cease sleeping in our understanding
finally the butterfly is released,
our spirits achieve the harmony in purpose
that was written in the Book of Life.