Glory Be to God for Cuddly Things

Glory be to God for cuddly things;

for musky, nubbly, puppy ears,

soft, velvet pink inside;

and teeny, checkered noses that twitch. 

Praise Him for tickly, white kitten whiskers;

lazy, downy lop-ears;

and sea bellies, a bliss-full mass 

of frost-tipped charcoal furs.

Goodness and mercy have followed me

by bitty toe beans and itsy yawns—

wee little exhalations 

of baby clove breath.

Blessed am I, for Thou hast given me

doggy snores and doggy dreams,

neck nuzzles, 

and boopy bum wags,

and happy beasty sighs.

Blessed be the God who thrums 

in these thumper hearts,

Who warms my weary head

when it is buried deep in 

a drowsy creature chest.

“Peace, be still.”

“Lo, I am with you always.”

Praise to the God 

who has taught me faithfulness,

forgiveness, hope, and home

by the giddy pounce of a prodigal God 

who has been waiting by the kitchen door

since 7:30 this morning,

so happy to see me at last.

He meets me by the weight 

of two great, giddy paws on my chest,

a sloppy lick on my cheek,

and a round-the-round dance.

He dares to be undignified

as a father running down the lane

to meet a wayward son— 

undignified as a God who chose 

(of all things) a stable for

His first human touch, 

impressing upon every goodly, 

cuddly beast the sleepy, 

holy scent of heaven.