In the Middle of the Universe, I Stand, Probing Its Soul

In the middle of the universe, I stand Wondering at where does it all start, where does it all end Science keeps coming up with its facts Religion has its own proof, which it shows with tact There, in the middle of it all, I stand and look at it all It is believed that its matter does make up my soul It is made of beauty, of stars taking birth, of planets dying It is beauty, beauty as does seem to be the sun, setting or rising! It is mystery as do seem the words of a Chinese poem To a child coming from the land singing the British anthem It is mystery as would seem the life of a seer of spirituality To the one who does thrive in many a one mundane activity It is magic It is mystic It is our essence Yet, we understand not its cadence In the middle of the universe, I yearn for the maker of it all Surely, He does be, surely, He would hear my call I am sure He is made of goodness I am sure He fills up our consciousness Unimaginable universe, Seeing you now, I would never have guessed your content be so diverse Life does thrive in you in all sorts of forms Yet, I see not Him who can claim to be the ruler of all these kingdoms So I choose not to keep standing in the middle of the universe I choose to walk and probe, to love it, so that with Him, indirectly I do converse Yes, I would love this thing of mystery While going about with my quest, hoping someday, He shall be revealed in all clarity!