Note: I admit that I am not a poet. Nevertheless, I wrote this poem several years ago and wanted to share it. When I read the passage in Job back then, I was really struck by the questions and interactions between God and Job. Just bear with me in my elementary style of poetry writing.
Once I sought to question God,
And from a whirlwind He answered me.
He asked if I had an arm like His
Or a voice of thunder as He.
He asked me where I was at the time
That He constructed the heavens and earth,
When boundaries were given to the seas,
And seasons were designated for birth.
"Are you able to command the dawn as I?
Do you know where I store the snow?
Do you know where the darkness makes its home
Or from where the wind first blows?"
I confessed that I did not have a reply,
And on my mouth I placed my hand.
He continued to speak--this time from a storm--
And revealed to me His mighty plan.
He explained that the constellations I see
Are an intricate work of art
And that He cares for the raven as much as the lion;
Provision for each He imparts.
"Have you given to Me that I should repay you?"
Knowing the answer, He asked.
"Whatever is under the heaven is Mine,
For I am the First and the Last."
"My child," said the Father, "Why do you question?
Can you find fault in all my ways?
Do you not even realize that I'm your Creator
And have numbered each of your days?"
"Why, I created the mouth with which you question,
Your finger that points at Me,
Your mind that's now filled with pride and doubt,
Your heart that once believed."
Then humbly I stood there in ashes and dust,
Confessing that I couldn't understand,
That His ways are blameless and beyond comprehension;
My whole life fits in His hand.
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