Christian
Angels wings are all embracing, With the thoughts of him above, Holy arms they lift us higher, To the Throne of Grace and Love. Gently resting on those feathers, In the warmth of their embrace, Rising up our minds from shadows, To a place of ever Faith. Like a swan who treads the river, With her babes not far behind, A group of Angels soaring upwards, To raise the thoughts of all mankind. Yet still within the bliss we protest, Mistaking pain for downward flight, Still each thorn it sends us soaring, Like a child with upward kite O blessed Angels pointing skyward, Are Life's tests which rest with me, Taking me forever higher, Rising upward by decree. Without the pain we cannot reach him, However long? We cannot say, Long slender fingers promise rebirth, But first the sins must die away.