Oh, the things people can miss while they’re looking for the needle in the haystack, only to realise too late that the entire haystack was made of needles! But he thinks that is the way with people – they want to see a specific kind of needle; one that speaks to them directly, even though all the needles prove the same thing.
He doesn’t want to be a pessimist, but he knows there will always be doubt and disbelief wherever faith is found. What he doesn’t know is whether he should feel sorry for them or whether he should feel sad, because really, they’ve fallen into the haystack made of needles, and it looks like it should hurt but he can’t tell by the angry expressions on their faces.
He wonders if time would help them see, or if second chances would help them hear, but they seem determined to prove him wrong.
The haystack grows into a lake, then into an ocean, then covers the whole earth, and he’s still not worried of drowning because he’s already realised that he’s not breathing air anymore.