The child looks up with eyes so bright,
Grasping to understand the thought,
Smiling inwardly, you know, like day following night,
The answer was for naught.
The word rolls from the mouth of the little one,
With emphasis so expertly done,
Followed by another attempt to explain,
Hoping that this time the inquisitor ends your pain.
The child grows and so does this word’s use,
The reasons for this and that, from death to sex,
Makes you wonder at times if it is just a ruse,
Or simply to tease, waiting for what comes next.
Then there are the ones that come from the heart,
Each so important like when innocently young,
But the answer requiring much thought to impart,
Knowing that some will leave your loved one stung.
And it is more so when it is from within…
The life lived, the acts done, and the hand dealt.
Even the action of others including evil’s sin,
Find many looking upward for the answers yet to be felt.
A simple word with so much weight and force,
That can cause great minds pause with no reply,
Leaving one to be sustained by faith and letting life run its course,
As it is not always there when asking… Why?
David G. Bancroft
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