February 12, 1997 June 17, 2020


up!  Up!  UP!


up from the slime where we were born

on through the years in varied form

time and chance their will to work

on and on our past to shirk




on we grow through countless ages

leaving behind forgotten pages

we come, we go, we fall, we grow

willy-nilly, we cannot know





up from the mire and through the goo

up through the fin and fur and shoe

up through the gases and solids and carbon

up to the time we choose to put garb on






until today our journeys run

we rest here basking in the sun

faces aglow and eyes alight

with nothing left to give a fright






and still we grow and change and whirl

and all about we change our world

and we and ours we search and scan

and proclaim as best this beast called man






we have our thoughts we know our mind

we're far improved on what's left behind

though kin-beast dwell this world we share

yet we stand here and they crouch there






the chasm between us can't be surmounted

and how we got here can't be accounted

but here we are and here well stay

and since we're here it's as we say






but one conundrum yet remains

after all this time, how do our brains

wrap around a thought and build

until all opposing thoughts are killed






and another, more troubling still,

how do our minds conceive a will

develop ideals, either right or wrong,

or write a word, or sing a song






if it's true that from the beasts I differ,

(or from that distant green conifer)

by thoughts that course inside my head

how am I here, why aren't I dead





for in a realm derived by chance

moral thought bears not a glance

for all is wrong and all is right

whether love or hate or talk or fight




the very morals I possess

deny the past that many guess

and if I ponder good or bad

by that thought the dream's been had


if a fish had lungs but had no air

he couldn't breathe, he wouldn't dare

thus if some deed begins my cryin'

it must truly be by some design


my righteous mind cannot remain

where time and chance have their domain

there'd be no use, it'd all be madness

my life, my joy, and all my sadness


I can't express philosophic joy

and not remain my Creator's boy

if I can think and say and feel

I must bear on me the stamp and seal


of He who is and stands alone

before the world and all its stone

it cant be aught as He has made it

for by its thought my mind betrayed it


“...the fool says in his heart

There is no God!....” “for

since the creation of the world

Gods invisible qualities...

...have been clearly seen,

being understood from what has been made”

by Him



I was reading tonight (February 12, 1997) from

"Whatever Happened to the Human Race?"

by Francis A. Schaeffer and C. Everett Koop

and felt that I should write this.


Regarding the fish/lungs/air thing:

If a fish had lungs but had no air

would that be a step up or down?

F.A.S. and C.E.K. make the point,

I appreciated it and put it here.


Scripture from:

Psalm 14:1

Romans 1:20



After Posting “up! Up! UP!” on Facebook


February 21, 2014


Reader - "Terrible poetry, but acceptable theology. But I still say that it's not necessary to believe in a 6 day creation as we understand days to praise the Creator for the wonderful universe He created."




Writer - "Terrible poetry? Perhaps, but I like it. Acceptable theology? No, but I'm not trying to be merely acceptable in my theology, I'm trying to be right. No arrogance is intended, I'm only saying that if I'm going to believe in God I want to do it to the best of my ability. Necessary to believe in six days of creation to praise the Creator? No, even the mountains will praise Him and they believe nothing. Necessary to believe in six days of creation to show that one takes God at His word? Yes, because if I start to doubt what God says about creation why should I believe Him about salvation?"




Writer - "Also, in this poem I wasn't only trying to say only that six day creation was theologically correct but that it is an inescapable truth. Once we start to ponder our origin we've already proven that we are created. Once we are created the need for countless ages disappears."




Reader - "Just as your poetry is not a novel or an essay, so not all parts of the Bible are straight narrative. Most Biblical scholars recognize the literary aspect of the beginning of Genesis as not straight narrative."




Writer - "Just as my poem states truth, despite its not being a novel or an essay, so the parts of the Bible that are not novel or essay also speak truth. Whether something is narrative or not is not an indicator of its ability to tell truth - otherwise every love song ever written says nothing and no hymn we sing in church has any meaning."




Reader - "No more comments."


up! Up! UP!
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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