The Word
The Northern Gate opens to glorious light.
We turn to see, as plants bend to the beam,
To all the glowing day: there is no night.
And gone with the night is error’s mortal dream.
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A force unknown has pulled ironbound thought
Till the heat of the light melted resistance’ strong hold.
“The polar magnet of Revelation” has caught
Away the iron as dross and wrought the gold.
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Through brilliance beams the faint but clear North Star;
It charts the flight of innocence and bliss –
The Way to follow the Lamb and our Leader far,
To a drop-the-mortal metamorphosis.
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And having climbed atop Christ’s soft-winged dove,
We soar on the Word of Life and Truth and Love.