(“Ada’s poem” refers to Ada Limon’s poem, What It Looks Like To Us And The Words We Use”)

My morning question
Often
“What does God look like to me today?”

Once
(Seems like a long time ago in a galaxy far far away)
The image of God
Came easily
An old bearded man
Finger outstretched
To create, yes
But also to blame
And to damn

All-knowing
All-seeing
(try mediating on THAT as you sit on the toilet)
Quick to condemn

Sacrificing His own Son
In His thirst for justice
(Or was it jealous vengeance)

The perfect son
Of the perfect mother
Both virginal
Both suffering
Both lonely
Exalted
Impossible role models

And the Holy Spirit to complete that triune God
Later I learned this theological nonsense:
The Father’s knowledge of Himself is the Son
The love between Father and Son is the Holy Spirit

The best thing about this
In the theology of the Catholic Church
Is that no woman is necessary
No desire, no lust
No messy menstruation
No messier childbirth
All clean, neat, sterile
Masculine

…

Then, for years
I knew the Goddess
First as part of that Trinity
But more and more
On her own
Her own trinity
Virgin, Mother, Crone
Adventurer, nurturer, wise woman

Now my answer more often
Resembles Ada’s poem
Divinity is the name I give
To the supernatural immanence
Of this gloriously natural world
To Gaia, to humanity 
To the eternity questing of my own spirit