Loving her, they say,
Is sin.
A sin that'll pull you straight to hell from the weight of it.
'look to God'
They say
And point to words of man.
'are fleeting lusts worth damning gambled souls?'

So I looked at God, my God.

My God, who tends a garden.
My God whose light is all the sun
My little leaves could ever need.
My God who steered the wind
To wrap a younger lonely girl in hugs.
My God who fills the sails of ships
My God who cares, and always has
My God who calls us children
My God who tends
With water instead of brimstone
And with rescuing palms
Not uncaring heels of boots.

I look at my God
And I look at my love.
And I say,
I'll take those odds.