I miss the sense of you beneath my skin,
fur and teeth and tail,
speaking with your language
braced against my tongue.
I pace on pavement,
squint my eyes against the sun–
Her Eye peering into mine.
Stubbornly I stow Your roads,
Mother’s fire, the feather,
the light of Your heart.
I can bear the mantle
of the Queen of Heaven’s daughter,
because I am.
I can trace Your dust-shod footprints,
King of the Highway,
because I am Yours.
Lord of my life, come to me again;
remind me of the wealth and pleasure
in drawing near to You —
in lowering myself before You,
at Your feet, candles and incense —
in filling myself with Your love.