A morning of grace

I thought that it was strange to assume
that it was abnormal for anyone
to be forever asking questions
about the nature of the universe,
about what the human condition really was,
my condition,
what I was doing here,
if there was really something to do.
It seemed to me on the contrary
that it was abnormal for people
not to think about it,
for them to allow themselves to live,
as it were, unconsciously.
Perhaps it's because everyone,
all the others,
are convinced in some unformulated, irrational way
that one day everything will be made clear.
Perhaps there will be a morning of grace for humanity.
Perhaps there will be a morning of grace for me. 

                   Eugene Ionesco, The Hermit