The God Gene

Inside, nestled into a corner of the brain,  lies a chapel tucked away just in case we need it. Tear ducts have been installed for weeping, fingers for pointing, painting, sometimes pinching. When glee or ecstasy overtake us,  we are provided outlets  for dancing or singing.  On those long dark days of need, there is our inner chapel, deemed by some “the God gene.”  Why not?

the wind blows unseen

fireflies dance in synchrony

painter of sunsets

 

 

 

 

photo by Sallie Mykel Carpentier

About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 82 now.
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5 Responses to The God Gene

  1. The mysteries of god are such a fascinating phenomenon. You’ve captured from the picture a moving prose poetic feel about our world and the universe.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi Nan. I love this post.

    Like

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