When tangles untangle themselves,
When pain reveals daily its joys.
When enemies are as valued as friends,
When knives are tools and guns are toys.
What room is there for me to say,
I want more structure in my life.
More certainty, less ambiguity,
Less walking on the edge of the knife.
For Grace visits at every bend,
Lighting my path with compassion.
She asks nothing of me in turn,
Not even faith; I am the One
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