Image by Jacek Yerka, Between Heaven and Hell
I have always imagined God as a woman;
and though She is timeless,
She looks to be
(to me)
in her middle-sixties.
I picture Her with
wavy salt and pepper hair
and sparkling
eyes -
not unlike my undergraduate adviser
Margaret Odegard,
who would throw back her head
and laugh a magnificent laugh if she knew.
(And so would God, because
I’m quite sure She has
an outstanding sense of humor.)
God does not, however, wear tweed like Dr. O.
In my mind She dresses in sunbeams, starlight,
clouds, hemp and linen.
And sensible shoes.
God did NOT create high heels.
And most assuredly God would have a cat in Her
kitchen.
And rows and rows of pots and crocks and jars
filled with
darkness and light and creeping things,
and baskets of stars,
and bushels of peaches,
and a huge stoppered bottle
full of annoying people,
and another with mosquitoes
and large bin of dinosaurs and sea monsters
all mixed up together.
Then She
created the Earth and saw that it was good.
But She knew She could do better…
particularly if She went easier on
the obnoxious
people and the mosquitoes;
so She keeps trying.
And in spite of Genesis,
I think God spends
every Sunday afternoon
cooking up new worlds.
So that's where She can be found,
in Her wonderfully cluttered kitchen.
And by the way, you’re always welcome in
for a chat and a cuppa.’
For the Writing prompt offered by The Mag. Also posted at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Open Link Night. They are doing a prompt a day for April, National Poetry Month.
