by Linda Ann Nickerson

Created on: April 06, 2008

HIGH HORSE OF HEAVEN

He rides upon a spotless mount;
His name is ever True.
The Faithful One, most paramount,
Returns for me and you.

With nail-scarred hands, He holds the rein,
His wounded feet hold fast.
Although He conquered death and pain,
The scars will ever last.

Above the clouds, He pirouettes.
A trumpet sounds the call.
The King whose blood redeemed our debts
Has triumphed over all.

In glowing robes and starry crown,
He gallops His joyride.
The time has come; He canters down
To beckon for His bride.

Then, seated on high Heaven's horse,
The Bridegroom and His love,
They share a ride on glory's course
To regions far above.

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