A Lonely Path
Please don’t hate me,
I’m just trying to get by.
My belly is empty,
And my mouth is so dry.
My mom was a stray;
That is my fate too—
Just seeking shelter,
To avoid the thrown shoe.
The nights are so cold,
The existence so daunting.
My coat’s dull and mangled,
My appearance haunting.
I long for the love
I have never been shown.
All I desire
Is a home of my own.
I limp down the street,
My pain hard to bear,
When a wise old crone
Beckons me near.
Her face is wrinkled,
Though her eyes are bright.
She asks, “Would you like
A bed for the night?”
Is this really happening?
She’s not turning away—
She’s calling me closer,
Even though I’m a stray.
She reached out her hand
And stood very still,
Allowing me to sniff
Until I had my fill.
She radiated kindness,
And I stepped closer for more.
She patted my head,
Then led me to her door.
She ushered me in,
Gave me water and a snack,
Then went to work
On the tangles on my back.
When she finished,
My fur truly shone.
My heart overflowed
For this sweet old crone.
That night I slept close,
Snug under her arm—
A sleep so peaceful,
A night so calm.
That morning I woke
To her smiling at me,
And she said, “Forever more,
This is where you will be.”
From that day on,
She took care of me—
A crone and her cat,
Blessed be.
Offer whatever name you wish to be known by at the hearth today — real or imagined — we look forward to welcoming your words into the circle.