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And Having Writ

The First Digit scribes names upon a Page,

By each the sigils: birth and death,

What do they look like? No one knows,

There are no cameras in heaven.

Photograph God? it's just not done,

Hubble has been on the case for years,

Has found neither Hide nor Hair,

Nothing.

Each of us must wait to see

How all of us, disparate men and women

Could have been made in His image.