Foolish Children

I hate to see my children indulge in folly. If you are afflicted just turn to me For I made all things and know them well, From the biggest whale to the littlest bee. Why cry to a mortal man like you To whom the world has sent a dose of woe? Instead cry to the heart that yours made For all your worries and cares I well know. Why should you consult the sleeping dead Who cannot twitch the smallest of their bones While I, the beginning and the end, listen to you As you pray with pounding hearts and anguished tones? And must you love him who seeks to destroy The very valuable things you to him entrust? You may mock my unfathomable love for you But you have my grace from birth to dust.