trevor’s encyclopedia of lost and beautiful things

I see

before my eyes,

feel

Inside my heart,

Notre Dame,

colossal cathedral,

majestically mighty,

triumphately traditional,

breathtakingly beautiful.

In front of the historic church

I see

before my eyes,

feel

Inside my heart,

a poor, old woman 

in tattered clothes 

holding pigeons in her hands, 

feeding them birdseed from her pockets, 

talking gently to them,

smiling a lovely smile at them,

bowing her head to them,

kissing the birds

of Notre Dame.

I come from the Southern Baptist tradition of the deep South. We often speak of God in the terms of Notre Dame the cathedral - colossal, majestic, mighty, triumphant, traditional, breathtaking, beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder...is this talk about God somehow linked to a defense of slavery, a promotion of Jim Crow laws, a prohibition of women in the ministry, a denial of personhood and human rights to LBGTQ persons, xenophobia.

Does the God talk of supremacy lead to white supremacy?

In my poem, Notre Dame is a poor, old woman in tattered clothes holding pigeons in her hand.

I see God like that.

I see God as a holding, feeding, talking, smiling, bowing, kissing God. 

Hopefully the God talk of humility leads to the kinship of God.