A Mouse Named Jesus (repost, in honor of the occasion)

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serenity blaze
Member Empyrean

since 2000-02-02

Posts 27738

0 posted 2005-07-03 02:07 AM

He was named by accident--
just because he startled me
catching me quite unaware
each time I lit the stove
"JEEEEEEEEEEZUS!"
I would thus proclaim
as he scurried from my grill--
this happened once too frequently
my exclamation stayed the same
so "Jesus" is what he is named--
accidentally.

He appeared for every meal
sputtering of smoke and heat
tiny rodent paw to mouth
choking on the smoke
beady eyes accusing me
I scolded him
"We have to eat!"
and pointed out the obvious
he must be indulging too,
he nodded, waiting patiently
for his home to cool.

He grew accustomed to my voice
He slowed in his retreat.
I swore I saw the curious
as he turned to look at me.
Once I left him a snap bean
because he likes them fresh.
I turned my back and it was gone,
I calmly smothered down the rest
thinking surely I'm insane.

I thought I'd try some reasoning
as I reached for seasoning
to add into my pot of beans--
"Jesus? I know you are there,
so listen to me please.
I cannot live with rodent hair
accumulating in my stove.
It's just not good for you or me--
and you know, the door's right there.
So spare us both the agony
and go back to your family."

Jesus didn't answer me.

So I shrugged it off.

Next day following I spied
Jesus brave enough to stay
in the midst of kitchen tile
as I brewed my morning juice
of "get up and go".
"This has gone on way too long--
look at YOU--you're spoiled and fat.
Some might take you for a slob--
you should at least look for a job
and go out on your own."

Jesus simply blinked at me.

I resolved to end this soon.

My daughter ran to me one day,
proclaiming most excitedly,
"I saw Jesus, way up CLOSE!"
She informed me he is cute.
I nodded, saying yes I knew.
But I know just what I know--
that Jesus has his followers -
worried we'd be over-run,
I talked of poison packages
death without the blood.
Then my son did interject,
and pointed out the Judas fate,
and asked me most mischievious,
"Cooking a last supper, mom?"

I paled and thought, "not me."

So now I'm in this quandary
in need of some advice.
I thought I'd buy a trap humane
(knowing such does not exist)
pondering complicity
of differences
'tween mice and men--
I realized that all is vast--
and yet I think
there's no small thing--
the sacred looms voluminous
by virtue of remaining hid.

SEA