The Cycle

Every six months, just like clock-work …it happens.

Every six months, it’s the same.

My whole world would stop when the Prophet was speaking.

Now, I wince, hold my breath, numb the pain.

It’s our General Conference, for all Mormons, everywhere.
A time for family.
A time a prayer.

A time.. to track the uptick in suicides.

Why? Because we number the temples erected,
NOT the queer teens rejected.
They enjoy healing,
while we lie there bleeding...
because both of our ears were wide open.

Now My Facebook Lights Up!

Queue the posts from the faithful!
No, silly, not this year.
No baptism for your children, no temple marriage too.
Oh, wait! The baptism rule changed. You’re so lucky!
Isn’t it great our Church is still true?

Because now we’re accepting, we love you for all you.
Just please leave all that gross stuff behind.
Because God's church never changes.
Haven’t you always felt safe here?
How could you say we’ve been unkind?

And where would you go,
if you didn’t have us here,
to show you mercy and love always unfeigned?

Queue the posts from the tearful.
Did I know them? Was there pain?
I’m so sorry for your loss.
This is insane.

So, our cycle continues.
Always longing. Always hoping,
But like clock-work, it's always the same.

Because when churches are people and our leaders are blinded,
by old prejudices stuck in their head, 
what use is a hope for things to get better,
what hope until we are dead.