God
She is autistic,
and she is five—
full of curiosity
about the shape of
others' bodies
or whether Jesus
lives in the graveyard
(she calls it heaven)
we just passed.
On Father's Day,
her father told her
that God is her daddy, too:
it's like she has two fathers.
She thought about it;
one night during
a sleepy mumbling of
the 23rd Psalm
she asked me:
Is God my mother, too?
She is autistic,
and she is five—
full of curiosity
about the shape of
others' bodies
or whether Jesus
lives in the graveyard
(she calls it heaven)
we just passed.
On Father's Day,
her father told her
that God is her daddy, too:
it's like she has two fathers.
She thought about it;
one night during
a sleepy mumbling of
the 23rd Psalm
she asked me:
Is God my mother, too?