Saturday

Ancient of Days



On throne so pure,
it appears like fire.
At a place so high,
none can go higher.

Sits GOD, so holy,
in His glory and power.
As the scent of mercy and grace,
fills His tower.

At the sound of His voice,
time stands still.
As He stretches forth His hand,
death is quelled.

To stand in His presence,
all evil must flee.
To accept His Son,
sets one free.

Millenniums pass,
yet He remains the same.
As His Spirit and Word,
still honor His name.

Who is so mighty,
That He never changes His ways?
Only, The GOD of Forever,
The Ancient of Days.