Privileged

Imagine, if you will, the world is fair.
Dice come up even, cards are shuffled well,
And chance is always equal everywhere.
For some of us, this world would be a hell
Because we are so used to other ways.
If every card you've drawn has been a king
You'd curse a hand of deuces or of treys.
It's natural. It touches everything.
The larger problems start when we assert
That others' decks have dealt as ours have done
And they have simply chosen to invert
Their fortunes: when we think that everyone
Has had the same as we have. They have not;
Nor is it always fair what we have got.

Maga

The greatest gift of God is that of peace.
Not when all others lie upon the floor
Objections brought to violent surcease
Nor when exhausted they can do no more
And glumly lie, and say that all is well,
Or cannot speak at all. In peace the goal
Is not mere quiet, or the greatest quell
But combination in a greater whole.
If we can work together all as one
And be more perfect and more unified;
If we acknowledge peace is never done
A constant process always being tried
Then we can recognize it as it lies
Between us, and permit its gifts to rise.