To My Little Evangelist
You disembarked your bus at 4,
Displaying verve unseen before,
Then trumpeted emphatically
The tale my mother once told me.
You preached “Our Father wrought the stars
And predefined which fate is ours,”
Extolling unabashedly
The tale my mother once told me.
Yet daughter, I’ve a story too,
That, while opposed, to me rings true.
So please let it accompany
The tale my mother once told me.
I fear my story won’t purport
That God on high built Man for sport,
And flouts without apology
The tale my mother once told me.
But listen, lest you lose this chance
To learn there’s never just one stance.
Consider all—yes, question too
The tale your mother’s telling you.
Mindy Watson
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