When my doggie was bad, she would shiver,
and with eyes she would look sad and wet and long…
her trembling melted me always.
I remember how she would lay her ears back and soft,
how she would gentle her body against me and
beg for mercy.
I am trembling like her now, but not for being bad,
but rather for being, in a way not acknowledged
and frightening to others.
I am trembling like Victor’s abomination did
when the villagers rounded up torches and pitchforks
and came after it(him).
And I lay back my heart, my soul(ears), and
make them soft and earnestly yearn
for Her hand.
May I always quake, be transient, in my own
aspect and circumstance and
sojourn.
But please, may I be strong and forthright
a mountain unmoved on behalf of those lacking
even the resources to tremble.
Charissa's Grace Notes 
Please know that there are those of us that do acknowledge you and we are not frightened by you.
Thank you…truly, you know the thanks that I give!
Incredible expression of empathy. Well done!
Thanks soo very much. I actually was not confident that the poem was even good. ☺
I think poems can be good on several different levels. Especially good for me are poems that touch a universal truth or universal revelation of grace. That’s the place I feel this poem lives.
Omg you absolutely zeroed in perfectly. It is an echo poem, of creature to master and creature to Master and creature to creature with Masters treasure.
TThanks so much for thinking it thru!
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