The sunbeams of Thy love shine with equal ardor on all the members of Thy cosmic family — the prophet, the hero, the moth, and me. It is our own fault if we make ourselves opaque through our own dullness. Teach us to wipe away the mist of error from the mirror of our right understanding.
The arms of our spiritual resistance are weak. O Master Cleaner, switch Thy power into our limbs, that we may cleanse away the dark vapors which settled on our transparency and dared to prevent the free entry of Thy light. Make us unmarred, bright mirrors, reflecting Thee.