The Rabbit Prayer

                             We sense a holy presence

                             from inside the fur, staring through
                             another shimmering darkness.  Beyond is
                             a midnight curtain of enormous eyes,
                             a looming family portrait of old trees
                             who sway peacefully beneath our moon.
                             Unseen friends sleep silently in the
                             palm of other hollow dens. 
                             The pups maintain a mix of sleep
                             and communal sheltered breathing
                             in a space no larger than a
                             human's cupped hands.
                             This is how we pass the night:
                             the overflowing clouds above,
                             scattered crows who clutter the dawn,
                             tall unkempt grass barely bending
                             in a way that hints at the whispers
                             we might be missing still.