What is Life? (original poem: John Murray - adapted Paul O’Brien)

 

The question’s often asked: What is life?

Why are we here, to face this din and strife?

Whence came we, or whither shall we go?

Are questions human beings fain would know.

 

It’s true in Eden fair, long years ago,

That good old book, the Bible, tries to show;

God made and breathed the breath of life on man,

To carry out His great infinite plan.

 

If we accept this statement without doubt,

Then “God is Life” to all within, without;

To man, to beast, and everything that hath

The breath of life, or moveth in life’s path.

 

But science comes along, unfolds a tale,

Enough to shake our faith and make us quail;

It brings another theory into view,

Declares the Eden story is not true.

 

It tries to show that in infinite space,

For God, for that Great Spirit there’s no place,

It says that man evolved from lowly form,

And crawled and crept, then walked ‘mid strife and storm.

 

Blind Nature did it all, the critics say,

In her own cruel and relentless way;

And did in countless years with steady plan,

From lowly form produce the perfect man.

 

But when the question seriously we face,

The hand of that Great Being we can trace,

For whether we evolved or not, ‘tis plain,

A perfect guide was needed all the same.

 

Then God is life to everything, and He

Ne’er had beginning, nor shall cease to be;

In Him is life, and in and through Him we

Shall live right on through all eternity.