Two nights. Out of nowhere.
The white dog appeared.
Initial fangs bared. Hurt unintentionally.
Roped paw released and allowed to run. Awaken to joy.
Visit again, my strong companion. By my side.
Walking lightly without fear. White glow big bang appears. To the portal.
That white dog. Of. My. Soul.
There have been more years in my life than not, I wistfully acknowledge, where the idea that I might be visited, and make a soulfully metaphoric connection with an other-worldly sentient being, was something that would not have entered my mind. Until last week. What came to mind, without effort, was this question: Is this visitor someone of consequence, has he always been there, and I never noticed? Has he just bubbled up at the right time because he now knows a companion is needed to another stage? That he hears and feels that Prairiewoods has taught us to journey, to be still, and to listen. To set aside the noise and settle. And trust that the next path is through and not around. Drawing us both out in peace.
—Keith Knapp, friend of Prairiewoods