"I'll Put MY Hands in Your Arm"

“I’LL PUT MY HANDS IN YOUR ARM”

The sun was like a huge bloody mass
Sinking into the far western horizon
Blending with its shadow cast upon the water’s mass
Ripples of tiny waves rippling across the shadows
So I watch another mysterious act of nature
Accomplishing nature’s assignment of another day

It was the evening rush hour in the camp
The fishermen pushed out into the vast sea
Little wooden boats bubbling on the waves
Being carried away into the vast open sea
And so the water on the ebbing tide
Accomplished another routine assignment of nature

Where does the water go on its swift rush?
Only to get exhausted and fagged out into a crawl
Returning from wherever with another swift rush
So the cycle continues into a never ending routine
Is there a purpose; is there a reason for nature’s acts
And so I lost into the mystery of another act of nature

While searching for answers to these questions,
The thoughts and questions of other searchers assailed
My reasoning, that we cannot nature’s act question.
“Many things about tomorrow I don’t seem to understand.
But I know who holds tomorrow,
And I know who holds my hand,”
So says a song writer, Ina Forest stanphil

So the huge body of waters of the sea
At the estuary of the ocean empties into the ocean
In the ebbing tide in the mornings and evenings
Only to retrieve all its contents to fill the rivers
In the flowing tide at noon and at nights
While the fishermen routinely fitted into nature plan

There is a purpose for every act of nature
I only questioned when I search not the mystery
But as I look also into the sky, I was appalled
Of yet another mysterious act of nature
Clouds of every shape and colour sailing
Across the sky in an incendiary of colour display

Need I question the purpose and reason of all these?
The answer came over in a wise man saying
Many centuries ago; a King once wrote
“There is a season for everything, and a time for
Every purpose under Heaven.” So night comes
And followed on its heel by day: a continuous routine.

Need I to ask the myriads of questions buffeting me?
Why does it rain to cause devastation here:
While wild fire is ravaging other lands for want of rainfall?
Can man fathom the extent and wisdom of God doing that?
Just as we laugh and weep in joy and sorrow,
So, does God, He adjusts the routine nature of His works.

I raised my eyes into the heaven with reverence
To Him who knows it all; whom another song writer,
Once said, “I put my hands in your arm, Oh Lord…”
That is what I will do: I will put my hand in His arm
As like in 'lovers’ nest, looking unto Him in humble
Submission, so He will bear me through life’s voyage.