Yet none to find positions
filled precisely where they're choosing,
God makes not mistakes of thought
nor random are his musings.
So complete in planning
spanning time and plotting still,
every single shift of sand
the hourglass would spill.
So measure days with thoughtful grace
in measured happenstance,
the rock on which we build our lives
was not a child of chance.
Counted for was every drop
our shepherd's compensations,
sheep we are of numbered fold