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The Unspoken Answer
I am searching, searching
searching for me.
I am wondering, my mind buzzing
With a million questions: "Who do I want to be?"
"Mother," I ask, "Why am I here?"
"Why," she says, "What a silly question, my dear"
I am about to ask how, when she answers me now:
"So silly, as if you were asking why the day is bright, hon"
"But mother," I say, "that's because of the sun."
"Father?" I ask, "What is my purpose?"
"Humph" he snorts "To do great things I suppose"
"What do you mean by that?" I wonder
But he says that's up to me to ponder
I am waiting for the answer to my question
when I am struck with a brilliant revelation
"God?" I ask, "Why am I here?"
An answer has yet to appear
I wait for the Lord to answer
And i hear not even a whisper
But alas! He has already replied!
With an answer no other has supplied
His silence speaks volumes to me
Telling me how the answer will come to be
And I know without a doubt
That the answer, only time can find out
As his silence says to me:
"In time, you shall know who you may be"