Oh my Master!
My Beloved! That Thou shouldst be ill! Thou Who walkest on the eight planes at will that Thou shouldst suffer so for our many-layered self. Oh may we make, from this, Thy sacrifice, a one-pointed sword to rend the many-layered cover and lessen the distance of separation from Thee, the Uncovered, the Light without shadow in Whom there is no darkness and no variableness.
Jane Humphrey Miller