Sunday, August 24, 2008

Pets

Over the years I have had to care for many pets. My wife loved animals and our child had every kind of pet available, even a lop-eared rabbit who loved to chew electric wires in two. I could never understand why the animal never got electrocuted. Generally my daughter had cats and dogs. I always ended up caring for them. And I always ended up as their companion for most of their lives. Here are a couple of poems I wrote about those pets.

My Cat

Striped gray fur flying through the air, landing lightly on a small table top. Chasing squirrels from window to window, Trapped inside, but afraid to go out. Calling to birds with a guttural chirp, cocking her ear as if they could hear. Seeming to wonder why they don't come, Ready to pounce, like a tiger hunting its prey.
Batting a crumpled paper across the floor, like a soccer player heading for a goal. Chasing a long lace of leather around a chair like a dog chasing its tail. Playfully poking her paw through the crack in a door, hoping you'll join her for a game of make believe. Play, play playin much of the day.
Sitting in the window when I return from a brief outing or a long sojourn.
Never coming to meet you, or show any concern. Seemingly aloof, as if to say, all I need is food, that's enough for me. But then she jumps into my lap and snuggles, or sleeps on a pillow near mine. And I think I'm okay in her eyes. She's my cat.

My Dog and I
Most mornings just about dawn, my dog and I walk in the town. Taking in the sights and sounds all as part of healthy exercise.
Rows of houses on large lots. Three different kinds on lawns of green, one a ranch, one two storied and third one in between.
The yards are cut, the trees are trimmed, the streets are lined with maple, elm and larch, old trees high into the sky, touching there to make an arch.
The early morning sun shines low through the branches, leaves and over the roofs. Latticed shadows fill the street lying at our feet, my dog and I.
In the winter, crisp and cold, chimmeys spew wisps of white, reflected by our breath as it appears. I bend into the wind, my dog behind.
In early spring we listen hard for sounds of birds that disappeared. Or look for buds in the early light. We straiten up, my dog at my side.
As the morning sun grows warmer, we listen to the birds and watch the gardens grow with flowers and herbs. Unburdened with my dog in front.
In the fall the air is cool and fresh. Colors of the trees grow bright.
There is a joy and sadness too, another year has parted for us two.
I watch my dog on these walks grow older as, indeed, I too. Her coat motley with gray, my hair hoary with each passing day.
Some day soon I'll walk alone. Sad but looking for the season's goods. Wondering when I won't be able to walk the streets of my neighborhood.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Religions-The Debate

I have often wondered how much more good religions could do for mankind if they would stop worrying about which religion is the one God wants. So I wrote a rather long poem about my thoughts. This may take two sections. So be sure to look for that.

The Debate

As I was taking a midnight stroll through the neighborhood, A building blocked my path, that was never there before.
It was a very ancient hall with flickering candle lights, huge compared to the houses here. It was, indeed, an unusual sight.
I was drawn to enter this ancient hall by some forece well beyond my strength. I entered and saw a crowd of men, women too, but just a few. Dressed in robes that draped and flowed as if they were a spirit world.
Some of the men I recognized from pictures in history books, like Socrates, Plato and Buddha, all with their distinctive looks.
I realized then these people were the ancient and modern philosophers representing religious beliefs, from every age and place, known for what they said about the nature of God and mankind.
With awe I stayed in a corner where I could see and hear, for I truly wondered why these great men were gathered in this ancient hall.
At the center of this August Group, Logic stood to speak. All turned their heads to hear what he said about why they gathered in this hallowed hall.
"This is a debate for each of you to argue your beliefs, so we can judge what's best for man to worship God. Each will have for as long as it takes to present their case to the others. When all have argued we will vote to decide, once and for all, which religion all mankind will follow to praise God.
It was a long and tedious debate lasting for days with no breaks. When the last of the theologians gave their case, a vote was taken, the results were in. To no one's surprise no one changed, each religion got one vote. The exercise to no avail. Nothing was settled with logic's debate.
Then in walked a very old man, horrible to see. Scarred and crippled from head to toe, scarcely able to walk to the center of all who gathered there. He spoke to this remarkable crowd, each hearing clearly what he said. "I am an endless people from every age who was tortured and killed for my beliefs. From the time of Baal to this very day, fed to the lions, killed in the Crusades. Who can forget what happened to me in the death camps during Hitler's rage. Down through the ages men have tortured and killed in the name of God and religious beliefs. What blindness shadows your minds to think that this is what God desires.
Then a gentle breeze filled that ancient hall, God's presence permiated each and every soul, till tears flowed freely from our eyes, each understanding how ignorant we are as intelligent man, fighting and squabbling about who knows God best.
I left that ancient hall continuing my walk filled with thoughts of what happened there. Wondering if it will finally bring together all the power that religion has to change a needy world. for evey religion at it's core believes all men, powerful or poor, must be treated with respect and love in order for God to be adored.
P.J. Wolf