My Mom Writes Poems, Too!
Here is a nice offering from my Mother, the unsinkable Sandra Molnar!
SISTER NOUVEAU MARY ADDRESSES THE STATUE OF THE BLESSED MOTHER
Quoth Sister Nouveau Mary to the statue, "I must say,
We get precious little help from you, no matter how we pray.
At the rising of the moon, in the clearing in the wood,
We have danced all in a circle, but as yet it's done no good.
And we've said the Mater Noster, meditated till we've dropped,
But still the persecution of our order hasn't stopped.
Aggravation from all corners, even places close to home,
From That Nun in Alabama to You Know Who in Rome."
(The statue stood there silent, as is a statue's way,
And just as well, for Sister had plenty more to say.)
"Why don't you send us novices? We cannot even keep
The few we get. I'm so stressed out I cannot eat or sleep.
Why, if I turn on the TV, I surf around and there
That Nun is, busy shearing off another head of hair."
(The statue stood and smiled at her. What else now would it do?)
Said Sister, "Oh, why bother to tell all this to you?
You never stood up for yourself, you followed Another's plan.
You didn't even write your tale, the job went to some man!
But don't you see? All that is changed, and now has come our hour.
Don't you get tired of second place? Why don't you use your power?
Those men can't stop us anymore. No Way! Just look at me:
I run a school, I wrote a book, I have a Ph.D.
What do you say to that?" The answer came in accents mild:
"That I'm the Queen of Heaven, daughter, and you're a foolish child."
The statue spoke and vanished. Dear God, had she gone blind?
And Sister Nouveau Mary wondered if she'd lost her mind.
Was it a demon? Her subconscious? A guardian angel's joke?
"Now what on earth...?" she sputtered, when another voice spoke.
It was Sister Athanasius, of the habit and the beads,
Who had flat refused to accommodate the order's Changing Needs,
Who had clung to her name in religion, if you please,
And still came to say Hail Marys upon her bony knees.
So there she stayed among them, the lone dissenting voice,
And, of course, the others let her, for We All Must Have Our Choice.
"What's happened to Our Lady? She watches as I pray."
"The statue's gone. We needed to update it anyway."
"What poor soul would steal a statue? Now that really is too bad!"
"Not stolen. I ...just got rid of it."
Ah, well, perhaps she had.
