Stained Glass Vision of the Cathedral
One Christmas Eve, I had a dream,
was a vision of the beautiful kind,
As I sat in a church, on that special day,
I could then picture, all in my mind.
Six stained glass windows, each so radiant,
all stood in the sun streamed air,
A story to tell, in colored glass, so well,
with such wonders, all so very rare.
The first glass in the little church,
one of Mary, and the babe, to be so mild,
On a Christmas day, then so long ago,
God sent to us all, this holy child.
Such spledid hues and in the tones,
were displayed, in this window, so fine,
No other words could then, but express,
that, of such a marvelous design.
In the second window, I viewed that day,
was the magi, on camels, to follow a star,
A light so bright, in the night,
to seek the holy child, and to search, from afar.
Such an essence of all, was so special,
this night, a Christmas Mass. alone,
In tones of red, and blue, and of gold,
a wonderful message, was then to be shown.
In the third window, etched in colored glass,
above "the Sermon on the Mount",
The inscription there read,
"The Miracles of Christ, not any man could count."
Christ stood with outstretched arms,
while teaching the masses, on that day,
The one greatest example, in a purity of life,
and in all that He did, and to say.
On the fourth window was shown, disciples and Christ,
on a ship, in a calming sea,
At His rebuke, the sea then changed,
what was once a storm, now, no longer to be..
Under a cloud filled sky, on an ocean so blue,
wild birds did fly, and all to sing,
Such a beauty, beyond any expression,
a real joy and happiness, He did bring.
On the fifth window, so painted and formed,
three crosses all stood upon a hill,
under a storming sky, and a watchful eye,
the wrath of our God, then all to feel.
Our Christ hung there, His body so bare,
we see agony, and of his great distress,
For now it was shown, why our faiths have grown,
and each of us, was so blessed.
On the sixth window, painted in brightness and light,
Christ stands, his hands to reveal,
The scars of the driven nails all there,
and in His resurrection, a story, that was real.
The greatness of all, the sixth glass window,
on that eve, yet, all so meaningful, and so clear,
My spirit soared, amid the wonders, so stored,
and Christ's story, to me, was so dear.