About the Dog

Pulling on the thread of my troubled psyche
unwound the fabric of memory
revealing every horror
of human selfishness and
my complicity in denying love,
to hide from which, I’d invented God.

It offended God,
whose existence wasn’t my prerogative,
but amused that in my arrogance, I
blame myself for my human traits,
God left me with these memories that unravel…

…then the Buddha came to visit me
along with an evangelist, a healer
and a little dog,
standing together at my door.
I kept the dog.

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