Life’s taunting questions give no reason to despair.

Forlorn voice articulates

what is keenly felt

at being’s softened core.

“Why ?” and “How ?”

Questions hurled

into the stratosphere,

from whence, no reply

appears forthcoming


Dismayed mind surmises

from the silence that

seems deafening:

“Is there anyone there ?”

“Does anyone care ?”

And still it seems

that nothing is returned

with no-one to respond


Blazing Spirit interposes

to halt the slippery

slide into hopelessness,

As with tear-blurred vision

I behold, the thorn-crowned brow

of suffering Creator

And deep beyond a reason,

I know: all will be well