Thought
Some days we see the mountains clear
A distant view makes them seem near
Sometimes the mists come in to hide
And mountain shapes to eyes denied
God’s vision comes in this same way
When attention’s probe doesn’t stray
To those who access Divine Grace
The yearning heart will see His face
Prayer
Dearest Lord, closer than breathing, present to the tips of the fingers, remove the mist from my eyes so that they may be ever fixed on Thee and ever fixed on Thee.
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