Your fog-cloud
blurs out all I can see.
Your cloud of glory,
thick and heavy–
held still, set free.

Oh yes, the World informed me
of what would make me happy.
But here on this mountain,
all the noise is muffled.

And the brightness of Your countenance
settles on my skin,
for radiance such as this
cannot be restrained.

Imprint upon me Your heart-glowing:
more than matches,
more than the dry dust that moves about the earth,
so eager to be set ablaze–

And as a man talks with a friend,
in this way my thirsting eyes will be rewarded:
shining lashes wet with clarity.