A poem inspired by Daniel 7

The Ancient of days takes his seat on the throne

Elevated above all that can and cannot be known

America, Babylon, Persia, yes, even Rome

No nation nor tribe outlasts His own

His light through the darkness has gloriously shown

His immaculate power will never be loaned

A servant king who brings sinners home

The Son of Man sits to the right of His throne

His enemies were real, and their rise like foam

Raging for a moment yet now crushed bone by bone

Arrogance persisted in creation’s defiant tone

Unaware of the reaping which rebellion had sown

Once were the saints weighed down by hearts of stone

Now they ascend and are free of their groans

Sons and daughters to Abba have flown

The Ancient of Days, the king on the throne