25 Heaven Poems

Reflect on these heavenly poems as you think about that glorious place. Heaven is not a fantasy tale. Heaven is real. A place where there is no more pain, no more tears.

Understand that you can't enter into heaven with unforgiven sin and without true faith in Jesus Christ; these poems reflect this truism. These inspirational Christian poems are worth reflecting on.

The following Christian poems speak directly about overcoming sin in your life, and in this world, in order to reach heaven, it is clear that sin must be eradicated and this only occurs when one is made righteous through belief in Jesus Christ.

Short Poems   /   Christian Poems    /   Heaven Poems - related: Quotes on Heaven

Popular Short Heaven Poems

  1. Eternal Life
    Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee

    We shall live again! how true
    That all will live once more!
    And in a world most grandly new
    Will worship and adore.

    Life again! yes, with God, the King,
    Who takes us from this earth
    That he may greater blessings bring
    At our eternal birth.

    Live again! yes, with Christ, so dear,
    Who taught the splendid truth,
    And made the fact so very clear,
    Of an immortal youth.

    Live again! yes, with dear ones gone
    So far from mortal sight!
    Live where all hearts shall be like one,
    Where all is blessed light.

    Thanks, God, for this holy peace,
    This greatest gift of thine,
    That whilst our earthly part must cease,
    As angels we shall shine.



  2. heaven will be the perfection we've always longed for.


  3. Contentment
    Poet: Guy Hootman

    When families move long miles away
    Parents and children yearn
    And sometimes do return
    To their familiar scenes of yesterday.

    Their faithful dog is well content,
    Relaxed in calm repose,
    If he can be with those
    Who him a little love has lent.

    So Christian when you're called above
    It will not matter where
    You will be happy there
    To be with God and Christ and friends you love.



  4. Heaven
    Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
    And his rest shall be glorious. Isa. 11:10

    There is a glorious land afar,
    Beyond the brightest burning star,
    Where peace interminably reigns;
    Where soft and balmy breezes blow,
    And golden rivers gently flow,
    And gladness smiles o'er all the plains.

    No groveling thought, no treacherous smile,
    No word unkind, no act of guile,
    Will e'er disturb the sacred rest:
    On every peaceful brow will shine
    A living beauty all divine,
    And love pervade the sinless breast.

    The ills of life, that hover o'er
    Our sunniest path, are felt no more;
    The cares of earth, a dismal train,
    That follow every step we take,
    Will there the happy soul forsake,
    And not molest her peace again.

    At evening, when I sink to rest,
    I dream of heaven, the land so blest,
    And list to hear the rapturous song.
    glorious land! I would I were
    In yon pure clime a worshipper,
    Amid the bright and sinless throng!



  5. Beyond
    Poet: Henry Burton

    Never a word is said
    But it trembles in the air,
    And the truant voice has sped
    To vibrate everywhere;
    And perhaps far off in eternal years
    The echo may ring upon our ears.

    Never are kind acts done
    To wipe the weeping eyes,
    But like flashes of the sun
    They signal to the skies;
    And up above the angels read
    How we have helped the sorer need.

    Never a day is given,
    But it tones the after years,
    And it carries up to heaven
    Its sunshine or its tears;
    While the to-morrows stand and wait, —
    The silent mutes by the outer gate.

    There is no end to the sky,
    And the stars are everywhere,
    And time is eternity,
    And the here is over there;
    For the common deeds of the common day
    Are ringing bells in the far away.



  6. Preparing For Heaven
    Poet: Greta Zwaan 2008

    The knob on the door to heaven extends to one side alone,
    It's a place of great exaltation with God seated on the throne.
    No need for a knob on the inside, it's a home where all long to go,
    Where great joys are never ending and praises ring to and fro.

    The key that lets one enter cannot be bought with gold,
    No funds or jewels or empires; this key will not be sold.
    No power, prestige or position, not tittles or honour or fame,
    It's the wonderful gift of salvation, purchased with love in Christ's name.

    It's the sacrifice humans can't offer, no commitment we make can atone;
    For sin has tainted our image, it's Jesus whose holy, alone.
    And through God's great act of mercy, forgiving our failures and sin,
    Can we pass through that door of salvation,
    Through Christ we're allowed to come in.

    Be assured there's no other entrance, though many have tried on their own,
    The efforts of man are all futile, as Scripture so clearly has shown.
    The call to the lost is, "Come hither, earthly belongings are vain,"
    Rise to the plea that's extended, it may not be offered again.

    Many are those who will falter, leaving their fate to the last,
    Forgetting that time's of the essence, the dye to their future is cast.
    Show God that you are responding, cast aside all your earthly cares,
    Prepare for your journey to heaven where all of Christ's blessings you'll share.



  7. We Build The Ladder
    Poet: J. G. Holland


    Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
    But we build the ladder by which we rise
    From the lowly earth, to the vaulted skies,
    And we mount to its summit round by round.

    I count this thing to be grandly true:
    That a noble deed is a step toward God,
    Lifting the soul from the common clod
    To a purer air and a broader view.

    We rise by the things that are under feet;
    By what we have mastered of good and gain;
    By the pride deposed and the passion slain,
    And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.

    We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,
    When the morning calls us to life and light,
    But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night,
    Our lives are trailing the sordid dust.

    We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray,
    And we think that we mount the air on wings
    Beyond the recall of sensual things,
    While our feet still cling to the heavy clay.

    Wings for the angels, but feet for men!
    We may borrow the wings to find the way—
    We may hope, and resolve, and aspire, and pray;
    But our feet must rise, or we fall again.

    Only in dreams is a ladder thrown
    From the weary earth to the sapphire walls;
    But the dreams depart, and the vision falls,
    And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone.

    Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
    But we build the ladder by which we rise
    From the lowly earth, to the vaulted skies,
    And we mount to its summit, round by round.



  8. Finding Blessings
    Poet: Greta Zwaan 2010


    I want to be a tool in the hands of the Master,
    I want to serve where e'er He desires.
    I want to be pliable, ready for action,
    Draw others to Him as the Spirit inspires.

    I receive blessings, more than abundant,
    I have so much to be thankful for;
    I want to repay some of God's goodness,
    My great Creator whom I adore.

    What can I offer? How can I please Him?
    What can I bring that will cause Him delight?
    He is the owner of all my possessions,
    He is the ruler o'er the day and the night.

    He has no need of whatever I bring Him,
    All of my possessions He already claims.
    It's my submission in line with His guidance,
    Walking the walk as He constantly trains.

    Daily preparing my journey to heaven,
    Closely observing the road I must take,
    Vigilant, wary, always responding,
    Cautiously searching, alert for my sake.

    All He desires is my perseverance,
    Total submission to what He requests,
    Fully subjected to His complete guidance,
    My faith will grow strong, I'll be richly blessed.



  9. My home is heaven. i'm just traveling through this world.


  10. Oh! If My Weary Soul
    by Mary C. Ryan

    Oh! if my weary soul this night,
    Should quit its mortal frame.
    And from this dreary world take flight,
    On the fleet wings of time;
    To dust my body would return,
    They'd say, She sleeps in death;
    But ah ! where would my soul he borne
    So silently from earth?

    Oh! would my soul find rest and peace,
    In realms of endless day;
    Where all life's woes and storms would cease
    Midst joys that ne'er decay?
    Or would it sink to that dark shore.
    Of pain and misery,
    Where hope, bright star, would gleam no more
    Through all eternity?

    O God! help me to choose the right,
    And ever ready be;
    So when I see life's darksome night,
    'Twill bring no fears for me.
    And when my soul is poised to fly
    Over the sea of death;
    Oh! send bright angels from on high
    To bear me from the earth.



  11. Heaven Holds All To Me
     Poet: Tillitt S. Teddlie

    Earth holds no treasures but perish with using,
    However precious they be;
    Yet there's a country to which I am going,
    Heaven holds all to me.

    Out on the hill of that wonderful country,
    Happy, contented and free,
    Loved ones are waiting and watching my coming,
    Heaven holds all to me.

    Why should I long for the world and its sorrows,
    When in that home o'er the sea,
    Millions are singing the wonderful story,
    Heaven holds all to me.



  12. May I
    Poet: George Eliot

    May I reach
    That purest heaven, be to other souls
    The cup of strength in some great agony,
    Enkindle generous ardour, feed pure love,
    Be the sweet presence of a good diffused,
    And in diffusion ever more intense!
    So shall I join the choir invisible
    Whose music is the gladness of the world.



  13. An Appeal To The Blind
    Poet: Maria J Dodge

    Come, all ye afflicted, and listen to me:
    With the eyes of faith every one can see;
    To the voice of your conscience your ear shall attend,
    And the praise of your heart unto Heaven ascend.

    Then keep yourselves gentle, pleasant, and neat,
    With a smile on your faces, both cheerful and sweet;
    The seeds of His Kingdom are in your hearts sown;
    Your eyes shall be opened before His Throne.

    Ah, then you shall see His glorious face.
    When you stand before the throne of grace;
    Your lips shall sing praises, sweet and clear,
    And your ears the music of Heaven shall hear.



  14. Better fail a thousand times, and fail in everything else, than to attempt to shape for yourself a life without God, without hope in Christ, and without an interest in Heaven.


  15. If God
    Poet: James Montgomery


    If God hath made this world so fair,
    Where sin and death abound,
    How beautiful beyond compare
    Will paradise be found!



  16. One Music
    Poet: Edwin Markham


    There is a high place in the upper air.
    So high that all the jarring sounds of Earth —
    All cursing and all crying and all mirth —
    Melt to one murmur and one music there.

    And so perhaps, high over worm and clod,
    There is an unimaginable goal,
    Where all the wars and discords of the soul
    Make one still music to the heart of God.



  17. My Heaven
    by C. C. Fraser-Tytler


    I sometimes think my Heaven may be
    A green place, with an orchard tree,
    And one sweet Angel, known to me.



  18. Life Is
    Poet: Unknown


    Life is
    A journey, not a home;
    A road, not an abiding place;
    A preparation, not an abode of rest.

    The joys of the way are but as resting spots on the road,
    Where we may be refreshed for the moment
    That again we may journey on,
    Seeking what is still before us -
    The rest that remaineth for the people of God.



  19. Friends That Travelled With Me
    Poet: H. M. Reasoner


    Many friends that travelled with me
    Reached Heaven's portal long ago;
    One by one they left me battling
    With the dark and crafty foe.
    They are watching at the portal,
    They are waiting at the door;
    Waiting only for my coming -
    The beloved ones gone before.



  20. Better Than Gold
    Poet: Alex Smart


    Better than grandeur, better than gold,
    Than rank or titles a hundred-fold,
    Is a healthy body, a mind at ease,
    And simple pleasures that always please.
    A heart that can feel for a neighbor’s woe,
    And share his joy with a friendly glow,
    With sympathies large enough to infold
    All men as brothers, is better than gold.

    Better than gold is the sweet repose
    Of the sons of toil when their labors close;
    Better than gold is the poor man’s sleep,
    And the balm that drops on his slumbers deep.
    Better than gold is a thinking mind
    That in realms of thought and books can find
    A treasure surpassing Australian ore,
    And live with the great and good of yore.

    Better than gold is a peaceful home,
    Where all the fireside charities come;
    The shrine of love and the haven of life,
    Hallowed by mother, or sister, or wife.
    However humble that home may be,
    Or tried with sorrows by Heaven’s decree,
    The blessings that never were bought or sold,
    And centre there, are better than gold.

    Better than gold in affliction’s hour
    Is the balm of love with its soothing power;
    Better than gold on a dying bed
    Is the hand that pillows the sinking head.
    When the pride and glory of life decay,
    And earth and its vanities fade away,
    The prostrate sufferer needs not to be told
    That trust in Heaven is better than gold.



  21. The Joy Of Incompleteness
    Poet: Unknown

    If all our life were one broad glare
    Of sunlight, clear, unclouded;
    If all our path were smooth and fair,
    By no soft gloom enshrouded;
    If all life's flowers were fully blown
    Without the sweet unfolding,
    And happiness were rudely thrown
    On hands too weak for holding
    Should we not miss the twilight hours,
    The gentle haze and sadness?
    Should we not long for storms and showers
    To break the constant gladness?

    If none were sick and none were sad,
    What service could we render?
    I think if we were always glad,
    We scarcely could be tender.
    Did our beloved never need
    Our patient ministration,
    Earth would grow cold and miss indeed
    Its sweetest consolation;
    If sorrow never claimed our heart,
    And every wish were granted,
    Patience would die, and hope depart
    Life would be disenchanted.

    And yet in heaven is no more night,
    In heaven is no more sorrow!
    Such unimagined new delight
    Fresh grace from pain will borrow.
    As the poor seed that underground
    Seeks its true life above it,
    Not knowing what will there be found
    When sunbeams kiss and love it,
    So we in darkness upward grow,
    And look and long for heaven,
    But cannot picture it below
    Till more of light be given.



  22. The Church Steps
    Poet: George T. Foster

    Two centuries of steps and then
    A field of graves!
    With many a sculptured tale of men
    Lost in the waves.

    You climb and climb, with here and there
    A seat for breath,
    To find amid the loftier air
    A realm of death.

    And thus it is with human life
    Men toil to rise,
    And lo! above the strain and strife
    A graveyard lies.

    Two centuries of steps, and then
    Amid the graves
    A holy house that tells to men
    Of Him that saves.

    O weary men, and women worn,
    That there have found
    And find bright hints of heavenly morn
    On earthly ground!

    And so atop the steps of time,
    If climbed aright,
    Heaven's glad and everlasting clime,
    And home of light.



  23. Rest In Heaven
    Poet: Emma V. Sweeten

    There are no weary hearts in Heaven,
    No tired, aching feet
    But joys and smiles innumerable,
    As saints each other greet.

    When in the new Jerusalem,
    We'll walk the golden street,
    And sing the praises of our Lord,
    Or sit at Jesus' feet.

    The storms of life which o'er us rise,
    And darken all our way,
    Will not be felt beyond the skies,
    For there 'tis always day.

    There in our Father's home above,
    The dwelling of the blest,
    We'll meet with loved ones 'round the throne,
    And there forever rest,

    A rest from sin, a rest from toil,
    From suffering and pain;
    No earthly cares our bliss can mar,
    We'll not return again.

    Toil on, toil on, ye weary ones,
    With grief and sorrow pressed,
    'Tis but a little while below,
    Then joy and endless rest.



  24. Heavenly City
    by Canon Farrar

    And very soon we shall have made our last stay of all;
    the sky will flush with the crimson of its last sunset;
    the last long shadows of the twilight will lengthen round us;
    the last farewell will be sighed forth from weary lips.

    After that our tent will be moved no longer;
    for then we hope that it will be pitched, for the last time,
    under the walls of the heavenly city,
    and the sun shall go down on us no more.

Poems About Heaven by Famous Poets:

  1. An Appeal To Heaven    by Greta Zwaan


  2. In The City Of Peace   by Mary C. Ryan


  3. Upward Trail   by Douglas Malloch


  4. Where Is Heaven   by Arthur Franklin Fuller

More Christian Poems to Inspire and Uplift



Related Short Poems & Quotes  You May Also Like:

journey of faith  Journey Of Faith

a letter from heaven   A Letter From Heaven

the weaver poem   The Weaver

Christian quotes   Christian Quotes

inspirational God quotes   Inspirational God Quotes

spiritual awakening   Spiritual Awakening

short prayers   Short Prayers

God's promises   God's Promises




Short Poems    |     Poems    |     Quotes     |     About Us    |     Contact Us    |    

Popular Pages