[As you might guess, this was written back before I served a full-time mission for my church, when I was waiting, anxiously, to get my "call" (assignment)]Mission Call Coming for a Nervous Mormon Girl
In the cave,
with a resolute
but ignored,
old soldier
in his faded red uniform
standing by,
there is a large white summon.
It asks me to go where I have never been
for God.
And if it is God who hands me this call,
how could I not clutch it to my chest and shout in jubilation?
And leap up my stairs,
throwing white paper like confetti?
And sing and tell the world that I will follow God?
But it is sealed with a very sticky glue,
and my hands tremble,
though they are scoffed and called cowards
by the old red sentry.
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