When I imagine Holy Spirit,
I see Her spreading Her arms wide
at the world around me and saying
“Go, play, have fun.”
I envision Her allowing me to indulge
all of my curiosities and desires,
like a painter being gifted top-notch art supplies
and a larger-than-life sized canvas.
I can’t see Her as an authoritarian,
head-shaking and finger-wagging
at my slightest deviation from tradition.
I see the contrary.
I see Her telling me the sky is the limit
and the world is my oyster.
There is nothing I cannot do or say or question,
as long as it is done in Love.
I can curse.
I can drink.
I can fuck.
I can learn any subject or watch any media I want.
As long as I do these things
while respecting human dignity
and promoting justice
and elevating compassion —
I have a blessing to do it all.
They were wrong:
There is no rock
I cannot turn.
They led me to believe God
was a lofty scientist and
I was his lowly mouse trapped in a sick maze,
stuck in a spiritual game of punishment-and-reward.
Those slick fucks, they created that whole maze —
God is the one who plucked me out
and let me run free in the streets.
God knew there was far more
for me outside of those sterile walls
and constricted hallways
and interrogative eyes waiting to critique my every move.
I am no religion’s submissive experiment.
Like the wind of Spirit, my body “blows wherever it pleases.”