God doesn’t exist yet, nor do I know when
a sketch of him will come, or at least a tone
in the confused design of the passage
of innumerable generations on this sphere.
No gesture is lost, no trace,
that the sense of life is only this:
make the earth the God we deserve,
and give the Universe the God it awaits.
[ José Saramago, "Criação", Os poemas possíveis, 1966 ]
