A Note to the Reader

Dear Reader,

This is not a map of Heaven. Scripture has already given what we are allowed to know. I have only tried to wake inside those promises: a new body, a holy city, the ordered joy of angels, the faces of the redeemed, and Christ Himself, no longer believed at a distance but seen.

If the gold and the gates appear, they are not the treasure. They are the floor and the door. The treasure is the Lamb who died and lives again. The city needs no sun because He is its day. Faith ends not in imagination, but in sight.

I have written in the second person because the hope is not a spectacle for someone else. It is offered to the one who still walks the long night and keeps the Name. This poem is but a humble attempt to capture the exquisite beauty of Heaven! In reality, there will be no words. For the scripture tells us in 1 Corinthians 2:9 (KJV)

But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.

Read the poem slowly. Beauty is not the enemy of truth. A line may be lovely and still lead you to Jesus Christ, King of Kings and Lord of Lords! If the loveliness stops at itself, it has failed. If it makes Him nearer, it has done its work.

The work is His.

The rest is waiting.

—The Poet

1 Corinthians 15:51–53

Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed,

In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.

Philippians 3:21

Who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself.

Revelation 21:4

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Revelation 21:21

And the twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several gate was of one pearl: and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass.

Revelation 21:23

And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.

Revelation 22:1–2

And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.

In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

Revelation 22:5

And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever.

1 Corinthians 13:12

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

2 Corinthians 5:7

(For we walk by faith, not by sight:)

1 John 3:2

Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.

Revelation 22:4

And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads.

John 20:27

Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing.

Matthew 25:21

His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

Hebrews 12:22–23

But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels,

To the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect.

Revelation 5:11–12

And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands;

Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.

Revelation 1:17–18

And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last:

I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death.

Revelation 22:13

I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.

Revelation 21:6

And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.

Waking is not a startle here.

It is a slow unfurling, like a rose

that never knew a frost or fear,

the first true breath a body knows.

The lungs take light instead of air.

The heart keeps time with something vast.

No ache remains, no weight, no wear—

the old machine is overpassed.

The skin is new. It holds the day

the way still water holds the sky.

Each nerve is tuned to praise and play;

each cell remembers the design.

You stand. The standing is a song.

The floor is gold that does not glare

but drinks the brightness all along

and gives it back as living air.

A river moves with liquid glass.

Its banks are lined with trees that heal.

The leaves keep time as ages pass

and every wound they touch is sealed.

Then sound arrives—not crash, not cry,

but ordered glory, rank on rank:

the seraphim whose faces fly

with fire that never scorched or sank;

the cherubim with wheels of sight;

the thrones that hold the weight of peace;

dominions keeping day from night

so joy may never know decrease;

then virtues, powers, principalities,

archangels bright as lifted swords,

and angels countless as the seas

who speak in one accord of words.

They do not rush. They form a way.

A living aisle of wing and light.

A welcoming that does not sway

from order into mere delight.

One steps. His face is kind and keen.

He does not ask what you have done.

He only smiles, as if he’d seen

your name before the world begun.

Beyond him, faces you have loved

in stories older than your blood:

the shepherd-king whose harp once moved

the dark; the man who faced the flood;

the mother who kept every word

and pondered them against her heart;

the fisherman who saw the Lord

and left the nets to take his part.

They do not crowd. They simply are—

as real as bread, as clear as flame.

No statue’s calm, no distant star:

they know your name. They speak your name.

The city rises, gate by gate

of pearl that never learned to close.

No shadow leans. There is no late.

The light itself is what it knows.

And then the center—not a throne

of metal lifted over men,

but Jesus, known as He is known,

the Lamb who died and lives again.

You see Him. Seeing is the end

of faith that walked the long night through.

The glass is gone. The shadows bend.

The distant Hope is here and true.

The eyes that wept, the hands once torn,

the side the spear was made to find—

He wears them still, not as a scorn,

but as the mercy of His mind.

He looks at you as if the world

had waited only for this hour.

No thunder splits. No banner’s furled.

Just love that has no need of power.

He speaks, and every golden street

falls still, as if the city hears

the sentence it was built to meet,

the word that gathers all the years:

“Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”

The phrase is old. The meaning new.

It settles in the bones like current.

It makes the finished work come true.

You do not bow from terror’s claim.

You kneel because the joy is deep,

because the One who knows your name

has kept the promise He would keep.

And all the ranks of heaven wait

in that bright hush after the word,

as if the universe’s weight

were lightened by what you just heard.

Then music starts again—not loud,

but full, the way a river fills

the quiet places of a cloud

and turns the high, cold air to hills.

You rise. The new body knows how.

The gold is warm beneath your feet.

What once was faith is vision now.

The far-off Lord is near, complete.

The city keeps no sun for guide,

no moon to nurse a lesser flame.

The Lamb is day on every side.

The light is Jesus. So is the Name.

The saints are walking in that light.

The angels finish what they began.

The song is doctrine burning bright:

the Word made flesh, the Son of Man.

No sun is asked to start the day.

The Lamb is light. The song is won.

The First and Last is All in All.

The work forevermore is done.

**To God be the glory always and only.