Another Side Of Psalm 139 Poem by James Tipp

How often do I sit and think about the how?
How I was made, I know the process
The physical joining of man and woman
But the real how is just an echo of hope.
Was it in love or despair, partners for life?
Or just a passing encounter in the night?
Did they know what they had brought about?
Would they wonder was it worth all the bother?
My capacity for love and hate are real essentials
They help me move on and hold me back.
My capacity to change, develop and grow
All keyed in the instant I cry out and breathe
Wonderfully made, so the psalmist said.
Can I argue with such a proposition?
Would it not be churlish to deny the truth?
Yet the how is still unanswered, still mystery
When I think and really enquire about the how
I am left with the miracle of life, that is me
This complex structure full of mind and spirit
This paradox of good and evil has life in abundance