There is a thread that weaves a web of magic beauty untold.
On the day I leave for home then, my true beauty shall be shown.
A web of golden thread shall shine casing me head to toes;
of glory, great glory of the Lamb, a web of beauty then will unfold.
Before the throne I shall stand, the thread will trace my
days of how my growth and grace took place, of how it all began.
Ashes I traded for golden thread of beauty so many years now gone.
Angels will stand quietly in awe as my song I lift to him,
of the golden web once sewn by the Master's hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem