The worship of a Woman God

is rankest blasphemy

according to the mitred squad

that guards Divinity.

But when they bid me kneel ("you must!")

to figures male and white,

my foremost feeling is disgust

with a touch of childish fright.

God is not gendered, fem. or masc.,

that much they will concede;

but call Her "she" and see how fast

they'll launch a bitter screed!

I'm sorry, but I've had enough

of Scowling Old Greybeard:

a potentate who can't be loved

but only meekly feared.

My Sovereign Queen, my Joy, my Song,

forever may You reign!

For years and years, I have been wrong:

please pardon my disdain.

My Life, my Light, my Saving Grace,

I gladly bow my head;

with grateful lips, I kiss the trace

of Your exultant tread.

I praise you, Wisdom, bold and sweet,

compassionate and fierce:

there's peace and solace at Your feet;

I shower them with tears.