God, to me, it seems, is a verb not a noun proper or improper. See Hugo 421:83.

-Fuller, R(ichard) Buckminster
  Poem, published in No More Secondhand God (1963).

The point is the seeingöthe grace beyond recognition, the ways of the bird rising, unnamed, unknown, beyond the range of language, beyond its noun. Eyes open on growing, flying, happening, and go on opening. Manifold, the world dawns on unrecognizing, realizing eyes. Amazement is the thing. Not love, but the astonishment of loving.

-Reid, Alastair
  Weathering,'Growing, Flying, Happening'.