~ A Holy Place ~

No longer will the eyes dim in sunlight,
Or the tongue keep warring with thirst,
The heart will not beat with long yearnings,
Nor suffer the pangs of the cursed.

No more will the hands keep on striving
To make bread for breaking each morn,
They will be raised to our Lord in praise,
With the sound of the harp and the horn.

No more will there be weeping and wailing,
Or the soul's burdened lament,
Prejudice will not be prevailing,
Nor hatred there to torment…

One day we'll enter that city,
His promise is faithful and true,
We'll drink of the river that flows there,
Where He's making all things anew.

No longer will rays from the sun shine,
Nor darkness bid in the black night,
For we'll see His face in this Holy Place,
Shining a path of pure Light!

No more will the lips keep on pleading,
Begging amidst all the strife,
Prayers will sprout clusters of blessings,
That flow from The Book of Life.

No longer will hope keep exerting,
Running with each new endeavor,
For we'll serve the Lord, our soul now restored,
And praise Him forever and ever!

Sharon Frye  
© 2003 used with permission
Heroes of the Heart



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