O Great Mathematician

O Great Mathematician,

Who numbers the stars,

What makes this world so hard?

To You,

Who counts every grain of sand,

Why so much suffering from Your Hand?

And Calculator of all important things,

hair, lost and gained,

words spoken,

faces, tear-stained —

Can you remind me why this life is so pained?

What is the purpose of these chains?

Because I’ve never been good at mathematics, You know

Incongruent, I understand

Small percentages of survival, I get

But the counting of blessings is lost on me

Giving thanks for numbered days

I can’t speak

Nothing makes sense

The figures don’t add up

And in the equation—

I just want to find the ‘y’

So, could you hold me with two Hands this time?

Will all Three of You be the Comforter to my soul?

When my faith fails, please forgive me seventy x seven—

Will you send 10,000 angels when I walk through temptation?

And when you count Your sheep, please count carefully— if I should happen to be the one instead of the 99, please race toward me— rush after me— please find me!

Find the sum of my fears