A whisper in the wind , a mountain bleak.

As the sky goes darker by the hour
The coloured leaves all turn to neutral black
The branches look like writing in a script
The sense of which no human can unpack.

Does God write Hebrew with his fingertip?
Does he speak in algebraic form?
Or being there before we humans came
Must we struggle ,mysteries to discern?

For languages evolved from grunts and squeaks
From birdsong and the lapping of sea waves.
Evolution takes much longer than we think
As on our genes, new systems are engraved.

And if God is the origin and source
He does not speak in English or in Greek.
His being  shows both  subtlety and force
A whisper in the wind , a mountain bleak

Our God can never win the Nobel Prize
Beyond ,beneath,the source who underlies.

Astonishing that we should live at all

 

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To fulminate against the hands of fate
To vent our anger on beloved friends
Will not repair our ills and our mistakes
But may bring friendships to a bitter end.

For who are we to know what is the best?
Who are we to choose when loved ones die?
And do not think this is a needed test.
As if, on us, God wastes his time to spy.
Once we were a joining of two cells
The lively sperm, a salmon riding high.
The egg awaiting without need for bells
Is fertilised and grows that which shall die

Astonishing that we should live at all.
Unsurprising, that a loved one falls.