Walking across the street
to my neighbour's house
to visit a white wolf
with whom I share a bond,
I saw a brindle brown dog
running across her yard,
looking at me and laughing.
I broke the cookie
I was bringing to the wolf
in half, to share.
When I got inside the yard
I asked
where is the brown dog?
She looked at me confused.
There is no brown dog.
But I just saw one run across your yard.
On reflection, it didn't emerge from the yard
on the other side. It was just gone.
I saw a ghost dog
from the spirit world.
I think perhaps
I heard the dog howl my name.
for Brendan's prompt at Real Toads: to write of a totem animal or mythical creature. I am just back from a week away and am exhausted. But these are the words that came. I am still thinking of that brown dog, wondering what he came to say. The closing line echoes the book title, I Heard the Owl Call My Name. First Nations legend has it that if you hear the owl call your name, you will soon die. I am hoping I will be around for a while, but at my age, anything will be "soon". Lol.
"I Heard the Owl Call My Name" is one of my very favourite books (has been since I first read it many years ago). Even without your note, I "got" what your last line is saying, but I hope that may be long in coming. Regardless, I love this poem! (And if you sit down with your pen, drop into a meditative state and open your mind, the ghost dog will tell you exactly what its message really was ... which may well be another poem.)
ReplyDeleteSuch a sweet poem. Such a charming tale
ReplyDeleteMuch🌼love
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ReplyDeleteApril 21, 2018 at 10:28 PM
ReplyDeleteGo for the brown dog, Sherry.
Ghosts or spirits?
..
It would not surprise me in the least to find you feeding a cookie to a ghost dog, Sherry. I'm sure there are many who run at your heels.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful happening, I feel someday he will accept your gift. “They” say once you have seen him it’s just a matter of time - and faith. A lovely write :-)
ReplyDeleteNaming a familiar is part of the journey, and death has many way-stations (as does a life!). Paying homage to that brown dog will feed your poetry, for sure. Now ... you feed wolves cookies? (Why not?)
ReplyDeleteDog biscuit cookies, Brendan. Smiles. I carry dog treats in my pockets at all times.
DeleteThat final howl made my inner reader look over her shoulder... listening.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!!
ReplyDeleteIt reminds me of the time I saw a strange brown dog in my yard and it turned out to be a coyote!
ReplyDeleteYour story brought all kinds of things to mind. What an adventure,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Well done to share a cookie with the ghost dog. Probably a good idea
ReplyDeletewell, perhaps the ghost is simply spirit guide - not an omen, unless you hear the scratching of the death beetle ....
ReplyDeletebut a tired mind plays tricks on the eyes .... but that's just "logical" and, maybe scientifically true .... but the science can measure what the heart and spirit see, know, feel, taste, touch, hear .... so long may your sightings live on, and may your words continue to grace you with light in love ...
damnit! that should read/be "but the science can't measure what the heart..." can't can't can't .... I'm tired too, off to rest - hope the rest of the weekend is wonderful Sherry
DeleteAnimals hold such power. A hawk is one of my totems. Several years back a hawk flew along with me on my morning walks. It met me at a streetlight two houses down from mine, followed me the entire walk, and waited on the pole until I went inside once I returned home.
ReplyDeleteGhost dogs and cats - bring them on! I love to think of pets returning and watching over us.
ReplyDelete