It’s a wonderful life. It’s a wonderful world. I wonder if God is dead. I wonder how long I will live. I wonder what will happen to me when I die. Is it really any wonder? I wonder if I lived before I was born (it feels like I did). I wonder if the faces that appear to me in my dreams, faces of my father and others who have died, faces that smile and seem to be trying to reassure me that an afterlife awaits — I wonder if these are real beatific visions or just wishful thinking. I wonder, wonder, wonder who wrote the book of love. Last fall I bumped into Wonder, Stevie Wonder, the ACTUAL STEVIE WONDER on a street outside a jazz club in Greenwich Village. I wonder if anyone will even read this. And I wonder why I remember what Lao Tzu said: From wonder into wonder existence opens. It’s a world of wonders. Welcome to my world.