Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser
When it shows up,
you should go outside and make offerings;
you never know what form a god, or
goddess, will take.
Sometimes it’s a wild thing, but more
likely a cat, or a dog,
once it was a sheep, really,
today, a white pigeon
- not a dove -
that I gave seed in my grandmother’s
cereal bowl, painted by hand with a fruit decor,
by someone who might now be
someone’s angel, or just gone,
I won’t claim to know how these
things work, although I do have
my ideas. As, I’m sure you have your own.
Who has lost their way?
Standing on my door step, I often wonder
which one of us
most longs to be found.
© 2014-2016/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
Published by Talking Waters Press
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