I saw there from the beach
  not the monster from the nations
  but the high-walled beauty
  of New Jerusalem. . .
 
  It was draped with gems
  and a thousand holy lakes
  of golden glass, named
  for every saint.
 
  And there were cherubs and angels,
  silken white and angry no more
  now that desolation
  lay chained below.
 
  I saw John beside the river
  below the Tree of Life,
  his greatly ignored ordeals
  graciously rewarded.
 
  He was staring at the sky
  of the earth finally renewed
  and true-pitched sang
  David's Psalm, 23.