How many times
Have I come to these doors?
And angels greeted me
One on the right, one on the left
12 feet tall each one stands.
The right one takes my crown
The left one my robe.
In this room there is no royalty but Yours.
Not by your wish...
You have crowned me many times at this throne.
Yet it is as a peasant daughter
That I approach You
To lay my head on your feet
To wash them with my tears
The sorrow of worship through the distance of mortality.
And many times I knew
That one more tear would break your heart
And like a whisper my soul would
Evacuate this body to eternal peace in Your presence.
The choice was mine
And I have never abandoned yet
Your will on earth.
"More to do...," says the soul.