Coming upon it by chance,
I kidnapped a white flower,
alone in a field of green.
Holding its body in the rays of the sun,
I accepted Christ
and its whiteness became the clouds
and they melted into invisible oneness.
The flower bled white blood
and the white was
non-existent mist about me
touching and teaching me.
The white flower echoed
truth off the mountains in a mute melody.
I was not alone.
The sun flowed silvery white ribbons
and chased the mist away.
The light was truth
and the white flower,
imprisoned in my hand,
lived and died.
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