O Great Parent of the Universe,
I really must inform You
(As if You didn’t already know)
Of abundant evil blessed and done
Down numerous long centuries,
And even now as well,
Across the world, in Your Name.
Oh the enormity of the brutality,
The insanity and the perversity,
The cruelty and the barbarity
Is so truly and terribly tragic,
That I cease never to wonder
At why You have permitted it
(If You haven't Yourself arranged
For all of it to be so).
If and when I get to meet You,
On some grand Judgment Day,
Or in between rebirth cycles,
Or however else it might be,
I’d certainly like to ask You,
And I hope You’ll tell me why
(Not regarding this as arrogant audacity,
But simply a child’s irrepressible curiosity),
You allowed all this to happen,
Or, perhaps, ordered it to be so.
Shortly after I penned these lines,
From a poet friend of Yours I received
The following lines (at Your command?):
“Seek not to gauge the ways of God,” he wrote.
“Hush thy puny intellect to silence”.
“Bend and bow to His will.”
“Rack not thy brains
With the ‘why’ and the ‘wherefore’
Of things that perish
And events that pass.”
All this might well be the case,
O Great Parent of the universe,
And I sense it really is,
So, I hold back, myself restrain,
Keeping my question to myself,
So, I may not ask You ‘Why?’ again.
But since You already heard my query,
I think You just might answer it,
Explaining, in detail, till I agree,
On some day, near or far away,
When You'll arrange for us to meet.
For the time being though,
Until that day arrives,
I'll set the question of ‘Why?’ aside
And focus, instead, on doing in
Little ways what I myself can
To heal the wounds abundant
Which for centuries, and even now,
Have been inflicted in Your Name.
Meanwhile, I’ll keep alive the hope
Deep inside me that one day
If and when we get to meet,
You’ll tell me, lovingly if I ask
Why You allowed it all,
Or perhaps even ordained it so.
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