Go slow, like the old dog
Lying at your feet
Sitting on high bluff’s edge
Perusing all the lake
Chase not God with words or thoughts
If you do she’ll run away
Like fairy queens and forest nymphs
Fearful of your brash approach
Be the patient lover
No tearing loose the blouse
To satiate your ****** urge
So never feeling hers
Sit stock still on the red oak
A hundred plus years old
That lies now like the old dog
Toppled by the storm
Listen like he listens
Look longly, like he looks
Taking time to take all in
Things never learned in books
Don’t say a word to the old dog
And he won’t say a word to you
Sense the peace in his silence
Look long into his eyes
Follow his example
Trust he knows the way
Words are the Devil’s workshop
The old dog knows it well
After a while you’ll thank him
When your boredom turns to grace
When you quit thinking anything
And thus see God face to face