The nature of God’s Image nature cannot know.
There’s no viable context this world can provide
To show meaning and substance to be understood.
I see only the image of our humanhood
At abject disadvantage. The mind is denied
The omniscient knowing because it’s too slow.
I see life as conundra and death as release
From the lack of the image. To play along then
In the depth of confusion with those who are here
Is the ultimate circumstance to deal with fear
Of the unknown in living. I’m stuck once again
On its purpose, the knowing of which may bring peace.
So consumed with an image derived out of need
For complete understanding, do I stand alone?
Or are there many others who want to know more
Than what is being shown and why life is a chore?
Others may have their questions, but I have my own
And may not find the answers. Yet still I’ll proceed.
I would think that God’s Image reflected in me
Is one of sheer astonishment by what’s been made
To perceive its own selfhood and seek with delight
Every clue made available in the finite.
I’ll consider this one a most noble crusade
For the infinite wisdom that may set me free.