Prayer for a Field Mouse
Bless the gray mouse
that found her way
into the recycle bin.
Bless her tiny body,
no bigger than my thumb,
huddled and numb
against the hard side.
Bless her bright eye,
a frightened gleaming
that opened to me
and the nest she made
from shredded paper,
all I could offer.
Bless her last hours
alone under the lamp
with food and water near.
Bless this brief life
I might have ended
had she stayed hidden
inside the insulation.
Bless her body returned
to earth, no more
or less than any creature.
that found her way
into the recycle bin.
Bless her tiny body,
no bigger than my thumb,
huddled and numb
against the hard side.
Bless her bright eye,
a frightened gleaming
that opened to me
and the nest she made
from shredded paper,
all I could offer.
Bless her last hours
alone under the lamp
with food and water near.
Bless this brief life
I might have ended
had she stayed hidden
inside the insulation.
Bless her body returned
to earth, no more
or less than any creature.
4 comments:
I do think about "the critters" a lot, partly because of our advantageous vista looking out into a woods across our brick deck which is a combination bird/squirrel feeder, and to which we've been welcoming an increasing colony of White (not albino) Squirrels (pix and videos sent on request.)
The critter I see the most is the sparrow -- probably 6 or 8 varieties of them, never quite sure which is which, ('cause they forget to wear their nametags!) even with a Peterson's guidebook at hand. They are bold: they swoop in (usually one scout bird sending back the word that the Coast is Cleards and the welcome mat is out at Finke Café) and they're likely to feast even when Mina-the-Cat and I are quietly sitting outside watching them.
And in their commonness, I remember with appreciation Jesus' teaching that God notices them when even one falls. And Abe Lincoln said something about God loving common people "because he made so many of them."
Whether thinking about the feathered or furry ones that visit us, I usually end up singing at least a verse of Bill Stain's "All God's Critters got a Place in the Choir." Join me?
Yep, and that includes the occasional field mouse (or remains thereof) which Mina sometimes brings back (dead) as a little love-offering to me, like my dog Christie did when I was growing up, only then it was rabbits. I try to explain that "I appreciate the sentiment," but I'm not THAT hungry right now.
Thanks, Bill, for sharing a beautiful poem. Do you personally know the author?
Then again, I *DO* know that you personally know The Author of All That Is!
Warm Regards (from our woods vista), —DHF
Hi David -- I appreciate, as usual, our thoughtful comments. I don't know the author of the poem, but, as you noted, am blessed to know The Author.
Just lovely x we have some living in the compost
Thank you for the very comforting prayer. Two days ago, we set up a safe trap in our attic with the intention of releasing the mouse in the woods. I didn't realize it was in the cage for days. It was dead by the time I checked it again. I am devestated. All of God's creatures are prestious and should be treatred humanely
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