The Calling
By OneKind supporter Lauren Jarvis
A permitted path way
By a chalk stone river
A wetland of reeds
Tall bull rushes
Their brown velvety heads
Hot pokers of summer heat
The brown velvety heads
Of the cows in fields
Would be soft to stroke
The two fields split
By the chalk stone river
Framed in barbed wire fencing
Solitary, in one field
The big bull bellowing
Across the chalk stone river
His loud anguished
Calling flooding
The wide basin valley
Heeding his cries
One cow bellows back
Across the chalkstone river
She hears him
She knows him?
She knows his anguish?
Caught in their crossfire
Heard by us. Her herd
Gather near her, quietly, respectfully
We politely make our way
Through the cows crowding
The designated path way
They make way reluctantly
Staring steadily
Eyeing our dog warily
Exhibiting a rare wily wisdom
Our old dog keeping his head low
Following his nose
We speak softly to them
In passing as we do our garden robin
Our quiet words engulfed
By the big bull’s anguished bellowing
Doleful, loudly resounding
No escaping it
Back at our car
We stop for tea
From our old flask
Us two, the dog,
An old church
And the cattle not far
Still the heartfelt bellowing
From the great bull
Overflowing the vast valley
Hand hovering pouring the milk
Overflowing the plastic cup
We take off
Our car’s engine revving
Almost drowning out
The calling.
Leave a Reply