Christian Poetry: I Can Only Imagine

He, a friend, though my king,

About Him, I have heard,

About Him, I have read,

In a silent night, before me, He stands,

Feet like bronze refined in a furnace,

Clothed in a long robe with golden sash,

Face that shone like the brilliance of the sun,

Hair as white as wool,

Eyes like flames of fire,

A two-edged sword, His mouth held,

Voice as a sound of many waters,

Surrounded by His glory, do I stand or fall to my knees?

Do I dance or in awe of Him remain still?

Do I sing hallelujah or keep my mouth ajar?


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