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!
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