Dog and Man

Per canine standard, he exposes his
Belly for a rub
And so I comply
For likewise am I
A mere animal.

Ears papery, nose damp, but eyes like mine,
The theories at hand
Are cleaved into twain:
The animal strain
Is random or made.

If random, absurd as one rock in a
Milky milieu—if
Eco-chance stumbles
The system crumbles
To dust not to dogs.

If created, what then shall we say of
Human whose vessel
Is nay more profound
Except mind endowed
With understanding?

Inferior in speed and sense, why would
The creature chosen
To image its God
Be akin to dog
Not the angelic?

Hell, if cities of angels do exist,
The image-bearer’s
Carnal-clastic frame
Would exact them shame—
Seeds of mutiny.

Per divine standard, God exposes the
Weak to his favor
To break the upright
To fool the enlight
That no one may boast.

Yet we’ve convinced ourselves we’re products of
Hazard, we’ve obscured
The cosmic pattern
As love and matter
Bend to vanity.

If this dog was formed not fate, intent not
Accident, of all
Generations we
Are to be pitied—
Our chronic blindness.

The fur ‘tween my fingers returns sharply
The worldview in grasp.
Oh, his sleepy chest
Knows a deeper rest
Than man can stomach.