When God was Born
When God was born, I was there.
I saw her as she slipped quicksilver
from Sophia– her hair standing tall
When God was born, the midwife
said: “Look, she has extra digits.”
Behind her thumbs, new thumbs had sprung
to hold fast her mother’s wisdom.
Then I saw her grown, woman.
God a bride in white,
God a crone in black,
God with thumbs bent back.
And her wrath was nestled
like new life
beneath my stomach.