By James Brady
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The Mists Cleared

The mists cleared, O Lord my God,
and the Son then rose! There
before my heart and me stood this one
perfect white lily! 'Twas not the
Mother of God, but oft' had we thus
thought she might be an Angel
come to take us to God!


The mists cleared, O Lord my God,
and we awoke within a deep
winter's forest! The trees slept the
sleep of beauty, and there
were no flowers to be seen, lest it
be the one perfect white lily
we had so oft' sought!


The mists cleared, O Lord my God,
and there stood this one perfect
white rose next to the perfect white
lily! Snow lightly drifted upon
both flowers, but it did not weigh
upon, or cover, the lily or the
rose! Beauty we beheld!


The mists cleared, O Lord my God,
and the snow had ceased! All
was illuminated by the soft light of
a full moon! Never, Lord, had
the white lily or the white rose been
as beautiful to my heart and
me! We were with God!
So be it!


James Brady
August 1, 2019