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Ashlar Home > Poems > David Hamilton > The Tabernacle

The Tabernacle

By David Hamilton

When in the place of desolation I see
A colorful gate, always there, inviting me
Within the linen that surrounds the court
It is here I'm near the righteous port
Moving closer I encounter the altar
A wonderful place for all who falter
Here the blameless sacrifice ascends
Join the acceptance, of God who descends
An here, the fire of God is revealed
Consuming the sin so long concealed
Tis a place of death and of repentance
That man may rise, free from its sentence
Approaching the laver, as to the grave
Buried in water, arising to be saved
A priest passing through the door of grace
Dressed for service for His Holy Place
To the right a table of wood and of gold
On which is the bread, that never grows old
Eternally fresh is the sustaining Word

Life when eaten by those who have heard
Turning to the Light, the Lamp of Gold
Beautifully wrought, and made without mold
Gods decorative lampstand called the Menorah
Shining forth His glow, and His euphoria
Revealing walls of wood, overlaid with gold
And the beautiful tapestry, it must be told
The cherubim woven, their wings do hover
Under which all who enter, are protected by its cover
Before the veil, we now stand
The way is now open, for mortal man
The dividing veil is now rent
Thank God, for this cause, the Lamb was sent
Opening up the way to the throne of God
Into his presence, the Holy of Holies, we now trod
Oh the majesty and glory of it all
Before the Ark of His Covenant we must fall
For here in this room, is the throne of grace
It is here, God calls his secret place
A place not hidden from those within
Those God's washed and freed from sin
Here among God's holy objects
The truth now revealed, in this divine project
The house designed for all in shackle
Can only be God's perfect plan, The Tabernacle
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