​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 …”

                                                 –  Emeal Zwayne



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