Calling the Dog
Following messages left in leaves, soil, air
he wanders too far.
When I call he pauses
quickening
to hurl fullness and glory
ahead of the self
like whales breach, tigers lunge, hawks soar.
There’s nothing but an arc
between hearing his name and springing
toward the one who named him.
I want this completeness.
I want to feel 100 trillion cells spark
from my body in answer
to what we call spirit.
I want to taste
the shimmering voltage course
from every rock, tree, star.
A moment before reaching me
he unsprings,
back to golden fur and brown eyes
arriving tongue first.
Laura Grace Weldon
from Tending
Laura Grace Weldon 