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.