Nothing Hidden

The white-hot sphere of blazing glory

edged ever closer to the horizon,

wringing every drop of warmth

from its golden rays.

I'd never seen it so demanding,

commanding me to look,

full on, face to face . . .

but I could not hold my gaze steady,

I had to look away.

The cloudless skies provided no veil

to filter it's penetrating beams.

Only at it's edges where its brightness shot out

like shards of glass,

could I allow a fleeting glance.

Words from the sacred pages

rise from my spirit and echo in my mind.

" . . . a tabernacle for the sun . . ."

". . . like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber . . ."

". . . rejoices like a strong man to run his race . . ."

". . . nothing hidden from its heat . . ."

Nothing hidden . . . woe is me!

But . . . wait, it can't or can it be

I lift my eyes,

take one last look.

The radiant orb is now blood-red

and I remember what He said . . .

"Though your sins be as scarlet,

they shall be as white as snow."

The Holy One,

the brightness of His glory,

bleeds atonement

and I am forgiven.

© Andrea Dawn Olsen - 28 August 2011