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I look around me--all is white.
I look again, and forms appear.
They move a slight degree, then stop,
Each group within its weekly sphere.
Where could I be, where do I go?
I'll have to wait and pray and see.
No guarantee of getting what
I want; no forsight what will be.
I look around me--all is right.
I look again, and hope is near.
Assurance from my captain's pen
Lets me step forward, clearer, clear.
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