My Dear Ones, I wake in the wee hours to pray over you and ponder how to make the world as honest as you need it to be. You are sincere and intractably hopeful. I want everything to reveal itself to you in its beauty. I spend my evenings making apocalypses for you. Here is a chart that will make the day fall into a pattern. Here is mirror that reveals prayer as joy. Here is a little game that charms the teeth out of sequencing. When you, my boy, sing with me, and you, my girl, cover your ears when I sing, I know it is because you both understand the power of music to reveal the heart. I would have wrapped myself…