Five senses, changing seasons, science, art,
The intricacies of the mind and heart --
Lifeís rife with miracles. It would be odd
If we were not moved to imagine God.
From what stuff, though, do we concoct Godís will
Concerning food, drink, sex, and who to kill?
If you have any comments on this poem, Chris O'Carroll would
be pleased to hear from you.