batter’s box
stands empty
since
Mara
moved on
save for
bunnies
dirt bathing
where
grass
no longer grows
Mara
an angel
of comfort
warm fleece
sun beams on January walks
hand and heart held
Universe
sent
Henrietta
a douse of cold water
rope burned hands
an aloof ear
to exercise
muscles
of
courage
creativity
Do
all
angels
have
their
place
and
time?
Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elemental truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would not otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man would have dreamed would come his way. I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets: “Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, magic, and power in it. Begin it now.”
~ W.H. Murray, The Scottish Himalayan Expedition
My angels name is Percy.
This reminds me of Ranier Rilke’s “but to have been this once, completely, even if only once: to have been at one with the earth, seems beyond undoing.” From Duino Elegies. It is indeed hard to think of our dogs, if not ourselves, as not being completely of this earth. Presence?