* I wrote this poem as a way to process my response to this article about divine rape and sexism in religious narratives (which has its own issue but nevertheless raises important questions). It solves nothing and not just because I lack the authority to rewrite history. It leaves plenty of its own issues. But it gives me a momentary hope in the God I love so deeply. And this Christmas, I need that. (Also, I don’t remotely believe God is male, but it matters that we’ve interpreted God that way so for the poem – male pronouns were important.)
She said, her voice soft.
She said again.
Defiance echoed in the small room.
Through the blinding light
the angel blinked, owlishly.
She shifted. Waiting.
the question finally came,
uncharacteristic uncertainty in angelic tones.
“No.” She said, still surprised at her own daring.
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