Busy Little People

Busy little people
with seething little minds
haven't time for discourse,
they're not the thinking kind.

Looking down on mortals
who have to work things out,
they're glad the thinking's done for them ,
now they can gad about

and tell the world how right they are
and all the others wrong,
that evidence is just for wimps.
With feelings running strong

they know its true they feel its true
what feels good must be right;
they screw their faces up with faith
and put their doubts to flight.

The evidence keeps flooding back
discomfiting the weak,
but busy little people
simply will not let it speak.

They scurry to their meetings
where they're busy taking notes.
Prepared with glee to sieze
the anti-Mormon by the throat

they scurry to the internet
and publish what they've found
and find robust responses,
so they scurry underground

where they say they are too busy
and they really must get on,
not realising other folk
are closely looking on

and wondering if there's any truth
in what the "antis" say,
if not then why
have all the fly young Mormons run away?

Symposia don't affect them,
although some folk are impressed
with fancy names for meetings
where the myth is neatly dressed

and presented to the world as truth
in jargon meant to pique,
but look below the surface
and you find that reason's weak;

That the Mormon myth's a spinster
and can't marry into truth,
that family of verity
that wise folk love from youth.

The fact is the divide's too wide,
the families far apart;
for one lives from a manual
the other from the heart.

One works and works to enter heaven
"as a doorkeeper will do",
the other trusts, lives like a son,
inherits all that's true.

So lookers-on keep looking
the "antis" hold their ground
but busy little people
are nowhere to be found.