Blessed Are the Thinkers

“I always knew I’d be preaching to the choir.”
John Lithgow

Firstborn daughter
of two preachers,
I was groomed to follow
the family tradition.

I sang on stage when I was three.
By four, I was picking out songs
on mama’s piano.
If only they hadn’t taught me
to be a critical thinker,
it might have happened,
I might have been an evangelist
like Mom and her sister, Bonnie.

I might have been a pastor,
like Dad.

Comfortable on stage,
a mighty voice,
lover of words,
but some of those stories
just didn’t make sense.

I’d ask questions,
and I wasn’t always comfortable with the answers.
I preferred logic to magic,
believed faith required proof.

I knew I was a disappointment,
the discordant voice in the family choir.

Even so, I think I followed their footsteps,
to students instead of parishioners,
the importance of thinking for oneself,

I want people to find heaven on earth,
to be accepted for who they are.

Kindness and love are holy enough for me.

2 thoughts on “Blessed Are the Thinkers

    1. I was tired by the time this prompt came up, but I think being tired can sometimes elicit honesty. Thanks.

      As you can see, I don’t share much of my writing with my biological family, but I have a wonderful poetry family.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *