Friday, October 24, 2008
In the Court of Glory
The innocent cloak of gray was rent asunder, giving view to the fiery waters beneath. Inch by inch, flames reach to encircle the dome; beyond where they touch, the mantle is a pale, ethereal blue. Ribbons of fire ripple across the space where it was hottest; only there was no heat. As in relief I breathe the delicious air in long sighs, the aspect changes. It is no longer a river of threatening waters. In one place all the power seems to be collected; concentrated, but so strong that even the mountains are kissed with rose. I would call it Glory. The shimmering light seems to form a gateway; open, but my eyes have not the strength to see beyond. Through such intensity of beauty I almost expected to see "a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer." (Rev 6:2) It was, to my earthly mind, fit for such an entrance. But soon, this too faded and just before the sun rose, all was serene. Only a gentle blush remained, as though the Painter's hand had calmed the storm of color, and He had said, "Peace, be still".