Gracious child, why are you afraid,

Spending life in your own barricade?

Passing your days with so numb a sorrow,

Too weak to survive yet another tomorrow.

Why in vain do you blame your past,

And precious time, in slumber, you cast?

You’re wearing out in dark hiatus

In history’s womb, as unborn fetus

What is it that you’re speculating there

Past, Present or, future’s affair?

Come dear child, in faith, you rise,

Well above your unholy surmise.

Anticipating death isn’t worth anticipating at all;

These lifeless times have nothing to forestall.

Come blessed child, there’s so much to remake.

In gloomy speeches, no need to partake.

Hasn’t the past long lost its glory,

And the future’s given enough worry?

What we have in this very moment

Is renewed hope in every fulfillment?