Had God not made me
a ball and chucked me
so far afield, I might rest
yet in the warmth of
those mysterious hands.
As it is, I have only
the distractible
dog of my longing to
fetch me back,
ears tuned —
more or less —
to the call
to return,
but also, eyes
tuned to squirrels, nose
to tantalizing ground,
all that shit to roll in;
also, the brilliant snow.
And what of the
chaseable, uncatchable
things? What of the
intriguing skunk, the
enticing porcupine?
Had God not made me
a ball I would not be also
this dog loping
through life, lost and
thrilled,
wounded and
amazed,
gratified by the
stink of it,
the sting,
the wonder.
And in all these years,
have I drawn any nearer
to the hand that owns me,
have I made my way back
at all, and
does it matter?
Or will God, lit with laughter,
tender and amused,
come find me anyway,
and carry me home?
Meditatio Ephemera 
OH! So very canine and yet so very human too … delightful mental romp! And your timing feels synchronistic – yesterday we met our next dog and the adoption will complete today or tomorrow … she is a year and a half, FULL of playfulness yet timid with people not yet known (the timid bit instantly endearing). She’s Labrador, so there will be many a ball tossed physically and metaphorically.
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Congratulations, Jazz — that’s wonderful! She’s a lucky dog, indeed, and I wish you every happiness, every playfulness. in the exuberance of her youth. Thank you for reading and commenting; always appreciated.
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Love this. My first words to Warren this morning, while I was petting a cat, were “You know, cats don’t eat shit.” (Or roll in it.)
I have to think that while we’re busy sanitizing/killing every germ, our picking up the muddy ball, the slimy Frisbee, the grimy bone — might just save us. That shit-eating thing, though …
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Praise your canines! Their good sense — and disgusting habits — may return you and Warren to the post-COVID world with intact immune systems, despite all the sanitizing! Thanks for reading, Amiga.
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Outstanding, Rafiki! This poem reads beautiful – as the ball, the perspective of the ball, the dog, the perspective of the dog, back to the ball and it’s tie to the one who holds it and whoa, back out to the whole picture of an amused God picking you up and carrying you home. I love it. Thank you for sharing your interesting, creative mind. I am a small, colorful ball currently flung far afield, with no idea what will happen . . .
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Thank you, Rafiki, for the attention you gave this, and your appreciation. I’m right out there with you, with no idea what happens next. For now, I aspire to roll in the snow and not the shit, though you can think you’re in one and then — bam! — it turns out to be the other.
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