My enemies lift their fiery darts;
lost joy and death they aim at my heart.
Talents they weigh down with dross,
loathing my destiny at the Cross.
Denying God's Word and truth's girdle,
dream's path they scatter with hurdles.
They tear into me through those I hold dear.
I call out knowing my Father will hear.
A lighted path leads me to a secret place.
To be seen only through the eyes of faith.
Entering only through hope and grace,
a vision, a white linen canopy marks the place.
Its woven, silver palm fronds beckon me.
Beads of gold curtain the blinding Glory.
He touches my eyes, I may not see
the power of His work to set me free.
His hands remove all obstructions;
my spirit fills with words of instruction.
His Breath traverses blood and marrow,
Flowing holy power fills my arrows.
My eyes may see: El Shaddai's heart revealed,
The image must however remain concealed.
His secret place encircled by a throng,
Angels revel and join me in song.
They guide me back and take up their post,
instructed to fight off the evil hosts.
Renewed and restored through His grace,
I know I shall return to that secret place