The Clearer Days

Here's my rescue Lab Izzie who in unknown senior years can plop down anywhere.  But in her mind's eye I can see her circling fields with nose tracing lines of an enduring spirit always in youth and play.

I love Wendell Berry's poem, "The Clear Days," and the image of the dog for the owner and the discovery of what fills and fuels the heart.

The dogs of indecision
Cross and cross the field of vision.
A cloud, a buzzing fly
Distract the lover’s eye.
Until the heart has found
Its native piece of ground
The day withholds its light,
The eye must stray unlit.
The ground’s the body’s bride,
Who will not be denied.
Not until all is given
Comes the thought of heaven.
When the mind’s an empty room
The clear days come.