Bronze (Johnson)/Why?

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WHY
The verdure sleeps in winter, Awakes with April rain,The sun swings low—'tis night—ascends, And lo! 'tis morn again:The world spins on triumphant Across a trackless sky,And man seeks evermore in vain The primal reason why.
O whither are we rushing? And wherefrom were we torn?We breathe from out the silences, And breathless, back are borne.
Deep in the soul are voices Returning this reply:It took a God to make us, Only God can answer why!
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