In the code

Small came the question at hand, when she saw the butterfly land.

How do caterpillars know when to weave, 

and when it’s time to leave?

Turning with a smile, 

told my grandfathers words to my child.

Gods words to us are forgotten, 

those spoken before his life we begin.

Like these small birds and bees, 

for each he made, things we see.

Thing you learn others you teach, 

for short lived animals its out of their reach.

His promises and plans, 

written on woven strands, 

actions and needs his code feeds.

For each animal in its code, 

are the things God, it once told.

Generations of birds, 

flock in great sky herds.

Building nests unlearned, 

dancing unspurned, 

mates they first earn.

Butterflies flutter from northern skies, 

though each generation along the way dies.

Still finds their way south, 

Through forests and droughts.

How then can they know,

Which way to now go?

Was it from one cell these things learned,

What you through trial earned.

Others believe from a single cell all life grew,

And along with through changes to this we grew.

What faith they must have for chance only you see,

That to this point proteins melding into a human or a tree.

Bound to strand, each helix woven so grand,

Gods imprint for insect, plant, and man.

God whispered before his Big Bang, 

these things for generations, will do the same.

In each living thing you will find, 

Gods words whispered are there in twined.

Someone had to unravel the mysteries, 

before they could become our histories.

W.A.Manning

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