Purpose

Everything that was created,
Was formed with a design.
And design means it was purposed.
A plan from the divine.

For if something has an effect
Upon reality,
It contributes to its function,
And it's integrity.

Does a pebble serve a purpose,
Above the ground below?
Can it fortify our concrete,
Or lay Goliath low?

Can it shade a tiny insect,
Or reinforce a wall?
The purpose that a pebble serves
Can be both great and small.

If something goes beyond its form,
With more than just one roll,
Then it serves a higher purpose,
And helps to shape the whole.

And anything with moving parts
That work in harmony,
Was not composed by accident,
It is God's symphony.

And this, of course, brings me to those
Who think they have no cause.
Believing they're as pointless as
Jack Frost or Santa Claus!

Yet even those fictitious names
Go far beyond their brand.
They inspire imagination,
In every earthly land.

But that's because they were designed,
To serve the rolls they do.
And if fiction has a purpose,
There's also one for you.

You're not some random accident.
In that, order is lost.
Chaos creates no structure from
Some cosmic holocaust.

Your purpose is your life's effect
On everything you touch.
Reality reacts to you.
Design decides how much.

And that design is everywhere,
God's Spirit in His plan!
He moves within the symphony
And in the hearts of man.

We're all part of the grand design.
Created with intent.
For if something serves a purpose,
It's NOT an accident.

This poem won second place for the June 2022 poetry contest