Who Can Tell Me?

This is a poem by Emeal (“E.Z.”) Zwayne.

“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 fist went to his schoolmates
And they spoke with one another.
“I know,” said the brightest one,
“You came from your mother.”

Now this had satisfied him,
Yet only for a time.
For as he grew year by year,
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 universe,
The span of outer space,
And every star and planet
That exists in every place.

He thought about the rounded Earth,
Its tilt and its rotation,
And all the 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 rule 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,
The sea of different faces,
Varied tongues and characters
From many distant places.

He thought of mortal bodies,
With features so profound;
And the sense of 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:
Both the weak and strong.
He thought about the conscience
That discerns 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’s all around.
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 great big bang,
That all things had evolved.

He then spoke with philosophers–
Heard some of them insist
That there’s no true reality
And we do not exist.

He spoke with many people
From different 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 gazed upon the first page,
He knew his search was done.
His questions were all answered
In Genesis chapter one.

With a nod of understanding,
He smiled so elated.
For now he surely knew–
“In the beginning God created…”