His long tail frozen in a wave
With an elegant coil at the tip like the tendril of a fiddle fern.
Winter coat a tweedy grey,
The belly white,
Kept warm with spots of ocher
And his right eye is open, looking to see what killed him.
The little smile remaining on his face
Says, “I will wait for you.”
So I lift him with a twig, place him in a fir tree for some winter hungry jay.
Then counting him among my dearest friends,
Say a little prayer and walk
This morning a doe and her fawn have come from the river
to eat green branches of a honey locust tree
cut and piled for burning.
In time we lose interest in who we are supposed to be.
I am a box of air, emptying and filling,
When I believe I am something special
drawn to this belief by hidden fear,
I feel it as loss.
Your friendship is a gift.
It reminds me I am still alive.
Keeps me focused on the simple longing for God.
When I think of you, I am happy.
“God Rocks” painted by Aja Thomas of Barnashram