“Not all, but some” a poem

The river pours out water of life, creatures run to it.

Fields yield its joy, and with happiness a crop is harvested.

Adorned with heavenward hands, trees do sit.

Who causes the bellies of the river beds to swell and flood.

Who has let foul weather fall upon seedlings below.

Who allows fire to ravage forests, shedding priestly blood.

Though water destroys it also nourishes.

Though hope is put in your land, it can disappoint.

Though beauty may flourish, it can be taken away.

Though all cannot be understood,

Though perfection lies but a bit away,

To know what has been revealed, I could.

In this I know, God is good.

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