HOW A LONE
WOLF PRAYS TO GOD
Aside from the vocal delivery mechanism, which is obviously
different than those of most homo sapiens, the message is basically this:
Let me walk with you, please, o Lord. Although I can't bear a leash, and we loners are known to roll in carrion for reasons mysterious to everyone including ourselves, we need to know we have a Master who loves us.
Let me walk with you, please, o Lord. Although I can't bear a leash, and we loners are known to roll in carrion for reasons mysterious to everyone including ourselves, we need to know we have a Master who loves us.
Even if we're often out of earshot and so don't always hear
when you call, which sometimes causes us trouble and others grief, we sniff
your trail often in ways that those who stay close to you can't, being used as
they are to more nearness of your presence than our solitary ways allow. Others
are more accustomed to your smell, often to the point where their den is
powerfully redolent of your Divine Odor, which can also cause problems: a
goldfish doesn't necessarily notice that its bowl is leaking until the water's too
far gone; we lonesters can smell a trace of your spirit like we can smell the
ghost of water on the wind... precisely because we are so often desperately parched.
Let me walk with You, please. I never asked to be without a pack, but that's how it is and apparently must be. I haven't had a pack for 48 years, but you blessed me with a mate so I don't have to always howl alone.
Nonetheless, while She is more company than I’d ever hoped for, I walk the woods alone because their darkness scares others. I get lonely, and need a friend I can rely on.
And… I hate to say, oh, I really hate to say it, but it’s probably you. Not that I don’t love you and adore you, but… I’m a wolf not a God. You’re all I have, like a housedog in a downtown city apartment whose entire world depends on its human. It is not entirely alone: the humans have another dog and they are best friends.
Let me walk with You, please. I never asked to be without a pack, but that's how it is and apparently must be. I haven't had a pack for 48 years, but you blessed me with a mate so I don't have to always howl alone.
Nonetheless, while She is more company than I’d ever hoped for, I walk the woods alone because their darkness scares others. I get lonely, and need a friend I can rely on.
And… I hate to say, oh, I really hate to say it, but it’s probably you. Not that I don’t love you and adore you, but… I’m a wolf not a God. You’re all I have, like a housedog in a downtown city apartment whose entire world depends on its human. It is not entirely alone: the humans have another dog and they are best friends.
But neither of them will last long without their human
god-of-their-lives, and neither will I nor my mate, o Lord.
1 comment:
It's a wonderful prayer, and deserves earnest praise, BUT it was actually the motto in your home page header that just can't be resisted.
"coppula eam, se non posit jocularum"
And that's precisely why the Universe delights in screwing us over. We can't take the same practical joke that we love to dish out.
Look at the world and laugh. Look at the world and cry. Look at the world and laugh and cry at the same time. Anyone examining reality who is not laughing and crying at once, with complete sincerity, just doesn't understand what they're looking at.
So yeah, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.
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