Big black orbs reflect her soul.
Poodle’s wagging pompom
touches; keeps me whole.
I see Zen truth, without cause, now, still, disarmed.
Sleeping on back, flat paws facing high,
content, comfortable, spontaneous, present.
I wander, accept, true faith draws nigh;
postpones awareness, always pre-eminent.
She accepts love; does not try to cope.
The light she casts radiates from her being.
I know. I cling. While there’s breath, there’s hope.
In the moment, Zen I am, faith not fleeing.