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.