Your defects are the ways that glory gets manifested ... That's where the Light enters you.
In Winter the bare boughs that seem to sleep Work covertly, preparing for their Spring.
Lo, for I to myself am unknown, now in God's name what must I do?
I am part of the load not rightly balanced . . .
This phantom world gave you false signs But you turned from the illusion and journeyed to the land of truth.
Everyone turns toward someone. Look for one scarred by the King's polo stick.