The Willow Bends
By Mark Edgemon

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The Willow Bends
By Mark Edgemon

He came in the night, wounded, battered,
Hungry, starved for affection more than sustenance,
Laid down to die on my front stoop. Closing his eyes,
He did not intend to open them again. Such is the fate of a warrior!
 
I heard nothing that caused me to rise from my sleep
And yet I stepped outside for a breath of cold, winter air,
Only gently stepping toward the mat, touching a soul in the night.
He could not move. I knelt, I prayed, I covered him with my body.
 
"He must have a purpose or You would not have sent him," I prayed.
"Let it be that he fulfills his destiny and heal his body...please!"
He may not have known what intercession was taking place,
He only knew he had been covered for a night and so he slept.
 
The early morn found Willow able to stand and with that,
Slowly he ate his first meal in his new home. More than food,
His soul was fed; for he knew he was where he should be
And I knew it too! Glad and comforted we were.
 
Years later, once again, I heard nothing as I rose from my sleep,
Until my door opened and an intruder came through
Holding a gun with the intent to erase his liability of capture,
By killing. A growl, a sound of rage came from my canine son.
 
The prowler was startled, but only for a second; he turned
To face fangs with the intent to buy me time. A shot,
Fired into Willow's chest, before I grabbed the criminal's hand,
Curving it toward his inside. The next shot ended the siege.
 
And so, it was through grief and supplication I knew
He had a purpose for me. To trade this profoundly human soul
For mine, meant My Creator had plans that I must follow. I will.
I remember Willow's smile and his sound and it relieves me...sometimes!
 
The End

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