A Prayer For Michael Vick

May you be forgiven.

May you be given a second chance:

May you come back as a dog.

May you be lost.

May you be found.

May you be loved.

May the whole world smell wonderful.

And may you know the touch

of gentle hands and the soft

voice of someone who sees

and knows and needs you,

to the end of your days.

Hence comes the four-legged friendships of so many of the better kind of men, for on what indeed should one refresh oneself from the endless deceit, falseness, and cunning of men if it were not for the dogs into whose faithful countenance one may look without distrust?

—Schopenhauer, Ethics

I have seen the sun break through

to illuminate a small field

for a while, and gone my way

and forgotten it. But that was the pearl

of great price, the one field that had

treasure in it. I realize now

that I must give all that I have

to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receeding future, nor hankering after

an imagined past. It is the turning

aside like Moses to the miracle

of the lit bush, to a brightness

that seemed as transitory as your youth

once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

—R.S. Thomas, "The Bright Field"