I see and hear sad things each day
Illness, hunger, deep dismay
Depressed I gaze into the sky
As I cry out, “Lord. Tell me why!
One non-believer, Freud, once said
There is no God. When you die, you’re dead
What God would cause an infant pain?
Man’s grief and wars? Blood spilled for gain?
So many people think as he
There’s no God because there’s misery
A loving God wouldn’t cause despair
Ignore an ill one’s pleading prayer
But such is life. Am I then a fool
Believing God exists and I have a soul?
Then I think…
Who shaped the endless universe;
Its galaxies, its worlds, this earth?
What great and mighty mind in fact
Devised rules to keep it all intact?
Formed far off worlds of giant size
Yet too distant for our mortal eyes
But also made the tiny mite,
And microbe life beyond our sight
Atoms having worlds within
All basic to man’s origin
Yet conforming to a perfect plan
Known alone to Him, though not to man
The potter’s greater than the pot*
All nature follows God’s strict laws
A mighty network without flaws
Except first man made lovingly
And free of all mortality
To live immune from pain and fear
To have no need to spill a tear
In a place of beauty, green and fresh
Without labor, sadness or distress
Eden was a paradise
That evil entered in disguise
And tempted man to disobey
God’s only rule to God’s dismay
thenceforth man had himself to blame
For a mortal life of toil and pain
To struggle with reality
Now that he lost immunity
by T.H. Everingham