In the well-worn street

A dog is barking, barking

Barking at nothing

In the marketplace

Two dogs fighting for a bone

Only one will eat

A fastidious hound

Carefully choosing the spot

Pisses on roses

Absorbed in the chase

A lap dog fetching a stick

Tramples the daisies

A three-legged dog

Loping after the others…

Does it know its loss?

An ownerless dog

Wanders into a temple

Turns, breaks wind, and leaves

A gray and tired dog

Though the leash is long removed

Never leaves its yard

A wandering mut

Skinny, chapped, and raw with mange

Makes friends with a child

As a hunter bows

Before a makeshift altar

His dog licks his face

As the lords enter

In solemn ceremony

The hounds take no heed

As the witches feast

On ale and sanctified cakes

Dogs howl for the crumbs

Licking itself clean

A dog easily achieves

The aim of prayer

As the priestess sits

In tranquil meditation

A dog licks her face

Rotting Silver is a column devoted to this Earth in all its tarnished radiance: poetry, prose, and parables of ugliness alloyed with joy.

This piece was first published at The Witch’s Voice.

The Author

B. T. Newberg:  Since the year 2000, B. T. has been practicing meditation and ritual from a naturalistic perspective. He currently volunteers as Education Director for the Spiritual Naturalist Society, where he is creating an online course in naturalistic spirituality. His writings can also be found at Patheos and Pagan Square, as well as right here at HP.

Professionally, he teaches English as a Second Language.  After living in Minnesota, England, Malaysia, Japan, and South Korea, he currently resides in St Paul, Minnesota, with his wife and cat.

After founding HumanisticPaganism.com in 2011 and serving as managing editor till 2013, he now serves as advising editor, and feels blessed to be a part of this community.