Everything is as it should be.
We shouldn't be so startled when everything turns out right.
We shouldn't be so amazed that there is order;
why do we assume chaos?
Right is not our "right"
We blame outsiders for the real chaos inside us.
The actual organizing should be done in our minds.
We attack trust when it is really us who have misplaced it,
not in its rightful place.
We often like to forget that evil never conquers, as our childish books tell us.
The secret to peace is not to worry,
for all shall be set right by His hands.

To where do you run, my dear
when all is said and done.
To where do your manful thoughts roam,
Is it to your lions den of greed? Or the pleasant shoal of fun?
Or perhaps the tropical forest of mating?
Yes, love, this is where your hungers are calculating.
Ah, but there lies a dearest freshness in your sigh and pant,
which gives me glorious hope.
Hope, which has begun to look like the Promise Land.
As you fire questions at me more and more,
I have faith that you will see.
See my fire that burns for you,
and the fire that blazes in you for me.
Because when the curtains draw, my dear
It seems we are all hurtling toward the end.
I swear by then we shall have joined hands; there will be nothing left to fear.

Oh, glistening Prince:
We are all so happy you have come (though we may not realize it).
We thank you for your million presents (though we have not opened them).
We know you seek to help us (though we may not want it).
Happy fault and blessed Barrenness,
embed a single snowflake in our hearts.
That we might always hold a dear token of
the transformative power of anguish and death.
Because you alway testify that with new life:
"My cup runneth over".