Poem by Tania Wiseman
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.
Comments about Golden Threads by Tania Wiseman
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.