Lent 17

[mylodon]

Today's post combines animals, their kindness, a response to amaraal's thoughtful comment on the Lent 15 post, and the Friday reflection. It's technically a Christmas poem by the amazing U A Fanthorpe, but it applies as much to Lent, with the run up to Easter Friday. Imagine this read in a Gloucestershire accent (think of Sam Gamgee in the LOTR films because Sean Astin's pretty close).

THE INVITATION

THE FOXES HAVE HOLES… Matt. 8 20

The Gloucestershire foxes’ message
To the child beyond our sea:
We’d hear thee was born in a stable.
Us dreams uneasy of thee.

Us knows the pack be after thee
Us knows how that du end,
The chase, the kill, the cheering,
Dying wi’out a friend.

So, lover, us makes this suggestion
To thee and thy fam’ly tu:
Come live wi we under Westridge
Where the huntin folk be few.

Thee’ll play wi cubs in the sunshine,
Sleep in our snuggest den,
And feed on – well, us’ll see to that –
Forget they beastly men.

Maybe thee thinks tis too far off,
Our language strange to thee,
But remember us foxes of Westridge
When thou tires of humanity.