The chariot that takes you there
Is made of glass and gold
Some call it Death's wheels
Others call it the vehicle to home
It steadily climbs a tunnel
Dark with the end in sight
An unwavering beckoning glow
Called the home beacon light
Standing tall upon a hill
The first sight you behold
Below light and airy, colored clouds a palace welcomes you
At first glance you are sold
It towers high and proud
Below it laps the sea
Each gentle wave chasing another
As blue as blue can be
Then you're in the palace
You know this is a place of no sin
And that you are home
In the kingdom of heaven
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a beautiful interpretation of our heavenly home! Lovely poem!