Kai-the-dog
When you look at me I see God
perhaps more than in a chalice
silver and crimson red with wine,
and more than a paten with
ridiculous wafers nobody
enjoys eating.
I see God in those big eyes
which say over and over
again that you love me and
you like me.
You seem to look at me not
with eyes of justice or anger
like the God the church
has so long espoused;
but rather with joy and
great expectation for what might
happen in four seconds
which is as far ahead as you ever think.
And that too is like God for me,
since I am not sure God is a planner
as much as I think God
is an enjoyer of the
present moment.
“A stick?”
“A bone?’
“A cuddle?”
“A walk together?”
“A bit of spooning?”
“A biscuit?”
“Just some staring lovingly at each other?”
…What shall we do now?!?!?!
Something that involves us
being together?
Something that involves me
showing you I adore you?
Something that involves a tug or war or lots
of licking your face
while I wag my tail?
This is Kai-the-dog
at Miss-Meg-camp.
He is this way everywhere,
with everyone.
How is it that we look to
altars and books to find God
and cannot see God in
everything else,
all creation.
And in Kai-the-dog?
