Scientific, sober and prudent minds
Ponder such vivid words but soon dismiss,
And never dream how reason’s bias blinds
A peek into such transcendental bliss.
The countless men and women—their trials,
Tribulations—gave reservoirs of blood
In pagan rites, dungeons, distant isles—
Who died in woods, wastelands, and jungle mud
Known to the Lamb and families who grieve.
Their names are written in His Book of Life.
Such mystery! how can we clearly conceive?
(How did He fuse the ear from Peter’s knife?)
Empiric minds like mine still probe and pry
How can God dye their robes from red to white?
Doors of perception reach beyond the eye
When faith beholds blood baptized into light.