Who Can Tell Me?

“Who can tell me where I came from?”

The little boy would ask;

His question was a good one

Yet he faced a trying task.

Each man had different answers

As he was soon to learn;

This brought him great confusion

And it caused a deep concern.

He first went to his schoolmates

And they spoke with one another;

Then the smartest of the bunch said

“You came from your mother.”

Now this had satisfied him

Yet only for a time;

For as he grew in years of age

His thoughts began to climb.

He then looked all around him

At all that he could see;

And his mind began to wonder

How it all had come to be.

He thought about the cosmos

The infinitude of space;

And every star and planet

That exists in every place.

He thought about the rounded earth

Spinning in rotation;

And all four seasons that occur

In yearly circulation.

He thought about the darkness

And he thought about the light;

He thought about the sun and moon

That help the day and night.

He thought of all the creatures

Of the land and sea and skies;

Of all the different species

And their variance in size.

He thought of all the plants and trees

And all that each provides;

Each growing from a tiny seed

With roots the soil hides.

He then looked at humanity

With all the different faces;

Different tongues and characters

And all the different races.

He thought of mortal bodies

With features so profound;

All the senses, taste, and touch,

And smell, and sight, and sound.

He thought of reproduction

And the miracle of birth;

He thought of human life itself

And all that it is worth.

He then considered human will

Weak and also strong;

He thought about the conscience

That discerns the right from wrong.

He thought about emotions

And feelings that arise;

He thought about the love and hate

And tears that flow from eyes.

He thought about the anger

And the joy that does abound;

He thought about the happiness

And sadness that is found.

And filled with curiosity

This boy would daily strive;

In hopeful expectation

That his answer would arrive.

He spoke with scientific men

Who claimed his question solved;

They told him of a real big bang

And that all things evolved.

He then spoke with philosophers

And many did insist;

That there is no reality

And nothing does exist.

He spoke with many people

From various groups and sects;

And heard the vast opinions

Of various intellects.

Now baffled by confusion

A very troubled youth;

Unable to discern

What is error, what is truth.

He almost gave up looking

But he took a second look;

And very unexpectedly

He found a special Book.

As he opened up the first page

The mystery came undone;

His questions all were answered

In Genesis, chapter one.

With a nod of understanding

He smiled, so elated;

For now he surely knew –

“In the Beginning, God created …”

~ Ps Emeal Zwayne

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