Explore "Why" by Georgia Douglas Johnson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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!