Why is it, O Lord
You fill some heads with intelligence amazing
while you leave some heads utterly blank?
I don't crave an answer, I simply wonder!
Thou art beauty, perfection, inconceivable
Why do you allow the devil to gnash his ugly teeth?
Again, I don't crave an answer, I simply wonder!
O, Lord! I would love to believe:
Thou won't exact more than what has been endowed
You won't expect a pauper to support a millionaire
Sinners utterly unrepentant strut about the streets
While staunch saints apologetically retire into vacant lots
Pardon me O, Lord! these wonderings spring from vanity,
'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity'
Comments about this poem (Wonderings by Varghese J Kuttikat )
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