things are as they should be

i've heard this said, and i have been struck by a deep and resonating doubt of its truth.  so doubtful, in fact, that the strength of the doubt leads me to believe that i may not indeed doubt it, but instead completely disagree with it.  i shout "false!" at it, i hold onto a pole with my one arm that has not been cut off by light and cry "you are not my father!", i brandish a heavy duty straw broom and wave it about, shooing (as it were) the phrase from my consciousness.

i count a few things.  okay, i count a few things.  but so many others i cannot count due to their nonexistence.

i am not full of awe and wonder.  still.  i think i once was.
or.
maybe i am full of awe and wonder...but not at the good things, but at the bad things.