Man, here am I!
But from whence, and what am I?
A mere speck of dust, a figment of mind?
A mindless mixture of mind and matter
Am I pure mind or pure matter?
If I am pure matter, does it matter?
And if a pure mind, must I never mind?
Am I made or simply a brute fact,
If a brute fact, life’s brutally meaningless
If made, why then do I question it?
I have no recollections to tell Plato
I have no memory of a discovery,
The discovery that I lived before Genesis 1:26
The memory that makes me a prisoner
A prisoner of this cruel material house
The Naturalists tell me that I am simply matter
A cosmic accident of the mindless big bang
But they tell me of nothing before the bang
They insist that nothing is not nothing
Yet, to common sense, such talk is nonsense
If matter is all there is here where we live
There’s no such a thing as intrinsic worth
All I face is fate, and sorry, I am seeing this so late
That life’s destiny is death, to love as pointless as to hate
Hitler’s end as Jesus’
If I am but pure matter, then does it matter how I live?
It appears to me as a brute fact, and I don’t flatter,
We are a mindful mixture of mind and matter
The mind which has memories thru’ matter
We are more than dust but no less
In His image we were made,
In the image of the Ancient of Days
We come from dust, we come from God
He who made dust made man out of it
By His ruach we are no mere beasts
Though, as men, we behave as beasts
Attending always the devil’s feasts
All often raising, against God, our fists
Consumed inwardly by sin, that yeast
And we strive within this prison cell,
Demonstrating that within us, all aint well
Until we beat, each one of us our breasts
We will never know that to be man is to be blessed
We will never know what it means to be at rest
We must embrace He who is the Christ
Or else we all die alike the wild beasts
After all, we tell our children that beasts we are!
We all would but rust except for grace
We are body and soul, bright but sold
Loved and cursed, wise and confused
We are of them that are at war, of flesh and spirit
Made for more but settling for less
Denying He who made us all to appear wise
We are doomed, and without Him we will not rise!