My Jerusalem
My Jerusalem, My city,
As the mourning dove is
Calling out to you, My
Compassion, My Mercy, My
Call is dwelling in this
City's walls, beckoning
This Holy call, drawing wells
of Salvation, and mercy, for
You.
Oh Beautiful Zion, the mountains
Drip with dew, like the oil, that ran
Down upon Aaron's beard, Stand upon the
Gates of this city, blow the trumpet, sound
The alarm, Zion is calling, gate beautiful,
is awaiting My return.
Oh Daughter of Zion, stand at the Eastern
Gate, arrayed in My beauty for you, the
Stars were numbered and all called by name,
This beautiful city, stands adorned awaiting
You.
Lisa Beth Jenkins Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved
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