Each new day Your drama You unfold, This Your sport that’s so infinitely old, Never tired of keeping busy this way, Being so engrossed in Your cosmic play, This drama that You Yourself have made That since eternity past You have played, The whole universe being its vast stage, On which You in Your mirth engage. The beings and things that in it are Each an actor in this show bizarre. Each one's costume it’s You who don, And thus Your drama goes on and on. To each their distinc

“I am with you”—if this I hear, These words from You, my Dear, It’ll put to rest my every fear, For then I’ll know You are near.   These words to me please say, Giving me hope along the way, Courage that I need each day, Please grant this plea, I pray.

I don’t really wish to remain In this Your Earth’s domain, But yet here I must still be As long as it’s Your will for me. But the moment You decide No more here I must reside, Then maybe in greatest glee From here I’ll speedily flee, Back, I hope, forever to You, Bidding to this Earth adieu!

I tell this to my puny mind: “On your own you can’t find The reason that lies behind The world, including humankind.   “By ourselves we can’t lay bare The purpose of the whole affair, Of the world and us being there, Don’t even try, just don’t care.   “The reason for it only He knows (This I very confidently suppose) From Whom, as all evidence shows, Creation, including humans, arose.   “But will He to us the reason say For which He's brought into play The world, and in it ou

This strange world that You’ve designed, The logic behind it I can’t seem to find, The reason for which You’ve put us here, Do please tell me, yes, please do so Dear.   A short stay, then death must arrive, Putting an end to our here being alive, And in between oh what we undergo! The purpose of it all I’d like to know.   Won’t You explain, to me this reveal, The reason we must endure this ordeal?

Be Your own lamp, so the wise have said, Don’t by others consent to be misled, By folks who claim to be sent by God, Know each of them to be just a fraud.   God’s spokesmen these pretend to be, His emissary or His chosen appointee, But not one of them, as far as I know, Who make this claim is really, truly so.   Men who as God’s chosen ones pose, Crooks are they, every one of those. To these charlatans pay just no heed, Don’t ever follow their beguiling lead.   Don’t fall pre

Those books were made by human hand: This fact please make them understand, To know these aren’t Your literal speech, Unlike what they proclaim and preach.   On the basis of this one gross lie, Many falsities they seek to justify, Which their several tomes contain, Claiming these it’s You who ordain.   One could draw up a lengthy list Of the lies on which they insist, Based on false claims they uphold About these tomes they’ve long retold, Declaring them Your very own word, B