Wherever I turn, I see the fog thickening
And rising, like an illusion, towards glory,
And the valley full of swirling mist
Will soon be empty,
And the hill covered with apple orchards
Will disappear from sight like the sun!
For every visible thing, there is a veil behind which it hides,
And for every towering mountain, there is a valley
large enough to embrace it on the Last Day.
**
