A Calling Out, a poem from Lorene Miller

 

A Calling Out

 

I raise my palms calling out to all available open hearts.

I am on a path traveled by many others before me, but my steps are burdened with confusion and conflict.

I am certain the salvation of souls, either fur, feathered, scaled or skin is not performed without a cost.

Much is asked of me. There is always a bit more I could do. I am desperate for my boundaries to scream, “Haven’t I done enough?”

I am at a conscious unrest. I pulsate with anxious thought.

Suffering, sickness and death, I see it with my awakened eyes, I dream of it with my sleeping mind.

There is no turning back. Retreating into a chosen blindness is no longer an option.

I call out for peace of mind.

Caution awaits and whispers a warning, “Do not lose yourself in good intentions. It is an illusion to believe pre-determined events can be altered. You cannot change the reality that living souls suffer.”

Realizing there are no guarantees or deals to make, I now live with a new understanding. There is no changing the Course. Existing has its own set of rules.

A sick lost soul, captured and altered by salvation will live as we all do, within what life allows.

I close with thanks and gratitude for those who received my calling out, helping me understand, as hard as it can be; trust and believe what lies beyond what one can change.

 

— By a poet and cat rescuer in Hayward, California, who may be reached at lorenemiller2222@comcast.net

 

2 thoughts on “A Calling Out, a poem from Lorene Miller”

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