Tell Me, Dear, How Here, On Earth, I Happen To Be

Tell me, Dear, how on Earth I happen to be.

Did I come on my own or did You make me?

Am I here because I willingly chose to,

Or was this something decreed by You?

On Earth, among us mortals, You know better than us,

It’s considered good manners such decisions to discuss.

If one’s to be sent somewhere, they seek their consent,

They send them there only after making an agreement

(At least that’s how it’s said to happen in polite society,

And this ought, I think, to be the norm for all humanity).

Does this rule, I wonder, apply to Your decision as well?

Did You before sending me here to me this Your plan tell?

And also, did You ask me what I myself thought of it,

Before from our home in Heaven You made me exit

And ordered that I must travel all the way down to Earth

And after maybe nine months’ wait take this human birth?