Grasp

a poem by Christuraj Alex

“He has made everything suitable in its time. He also has put {the past} in their hearts, yet no one can grasp what God does from the beginning to the end” (Ecclesiastics 3:11)

I remember, while, treading through narrow marshy paths,
Of our fields with my father, me as a little child;
A slip had happened like an uncalculated maths,
My grasping of my father’s hand and the way he smiled…

The vines creeping climbing and crawling filled with ripe grapes,
Hold fast firm to the branches whose endurance seem strong;
And glide greatly and gets greater of forms and fine shapes,
Resources of the air and soil they inhale and live long…

As the days went by; when I lost my loving father,
Just Like creepers and climbers, the strength I too did need;
I clutched then the hands of the great heavenly author,
The father and author; to his words, I did give heed…

Faced with tough trials and tribulations we gasp and pant,
Only when we clasp the hands of God do we stand free;
In him, our spirits soar; when his name we gladly chant,
He makes our life whole; waking us his kingdom to see!

(“He has made everything suitable in its time.
He also has put {the past} in their hearts,
yet no one can grasp what God does from the beginning to the end”
(Ecclesiastics 3:11))