My Son Poem by Alan Kent

When my son asked, 'Is God real dad? '
I wondered what to say.
Should I change the subject?
Or bluff with clichéd grey?

But then I thought, 'What do I feel?
Do I believe in Him?
Can everything we see and feel be accidental whim?

By chance to be just far enough from a billionth, billionth star.
Can that create a warm spring day to gladden every heart?

So as he sat upon my knee and wondered why I frowned,
I said to him with heartfelt hope,
'My son, he's all around. '