The path has been burned
Burned with the searing imprint of holy fire.
A holy God of fire and light has stepped before me.
Stepped upon the jagged stones,
into the blazing fire that would surely consume any who approached it.
His death, my ransom.
The fires of death He beat down,
only holy fire remains.
Flames that draw forth the graces hidden beneath this shell.
My destiny to travel this path He carved.
To taste and see the wonder of the One who has gone before
Surrounded.
Surrounded by shouts of deliverance,
a sonnet of redemption scripted by a multitude of angels whose faces shine of a bliss only those closest to the Lamb could know.
In grace it hangs in the fullness of the air
To be known and read by all those who would dare travel a path of marvelous light and dark.
It's love He longs for,
your heart His treasure and prize.
Holy flames curl through the air,
and yet flowers of fire slowly burst one by one along this path.
From the ashes, they cry for the Sun and steadily rise.
Illuminated by the gaze of a beautiful God
Petals unfurl and holy bliss is born.
On the wind, a hope is carried along.
Hidden beneath His shadows the path stretches forth,
to step forth a daring intentional choice to enter the fire.
In white she dances along this path,
Catching a radiant glow of fire and light,
flames singe the edges of this gown and fear tugs her backwards.
A heavenly force upon her heart burns and draws tears from her eyes.
Bitter waters made sweet in the light of His face.
A glance was enough,
Kept in His power she dances, though she fumbles as shadows draw her eyes out,
it is clear He has won this heart for good.
