I was sleeping, But my heart was awake – the voice of my beloved! He knocks, “Open for me, my sister, My love, my dove, my perfect one; For my head is drenched with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.”
“I was looking until thrones were set up, and the Ancient of Days was seated. His garment was white as snow, and the hair of His head was like clean wool, His throne was flames of fire, its wheels burning fire.