Author: Jeff Shapiro

It is interesting to watch how humans project themselves on this and that. For example…

The pessimist might say…
The earth is nothing but a big rock…
Smacking sinister…
It bites and is cruel like insect rain.

The naturalist might say…
This is my tree…
I hold counsel with the forest…
This earth is warm and willful.

The kindhearted might say…
Kindness smiles at me when She sees my reflection in the mirror…
She is always turning pages in Her open book…
And helps me hand out blankets when winter comes.

The anxious might say…
There is less grief on the other side of the river…
Someone will soon come and take me away…
Until that day I will watch and worry.

The spiritual might say…
Spiritual truth is opposite in most every way…
There are invisible hands pushing the rivers…
With everything flowing into the solitude of our souls.

I say…

I love you,

Annie

I have only one dream…
To play with my best friend Buster the Bulldog…
The pup in me always wants to play…
And to make play time last as long as possible.

I am part retriever…
Buster is part door stop…
Dancing paw to paw…
Waving goodbye to sorrow.

When I’m with Buster I seem to forget about everything else…
I am no longer keeping records of yesterday…
There are no more dark waters…
Just the chill and the splash of the wind and the sea.

All life becomes a fountain…
Jumping up and down, rolling side to side…
The spectators winking out from their windows…
There are no graves here.

You know, it’s not crazy just to let all the serious stuff go…
Go and find your Buster…
Walk away from the fire…
This river of playfulness never stops flowing.

I love you,

Annie

I like to huddle in the heaps…
Straggle from nest to nest…
Cock a sleepy eye…
Watch the glowing fire…
And drift into nothingness.

As I flit away, I am floating on light footsteps…
Gazing at all the lovely exotic creatures…
Considering the options that hold the most mystery…
Hold that thought! Rabbit! Run little legs run!

The rabbit got away, now let’s get back to it….

As I rest, I can give myself as many treats as I want…
Add an extra spoon of sugar…
Am free to look at bugs all day…
And eat the ones that are the juiciest.

I float boundless in love…
After all, there are no boundaries that can hold love…
I will never cease reaching…
Until I touch your nose.

My sleep ends as abruptly as it began…
My dreams left with me…
A shadowy road of my deepest thoughts…
Now it’s time to go, go, go!

I love you,

Annie

I carry a piece of thread different from yours…
Each morning, I lay it at the feet of the seamstress…
She collects from all who have given…
And begins creating a brand-new day.

Later, the sun sets into darkness…
The sunrise a blank piece of glory…
She waits for Her needle and thread…
And then She begins sewing.

What new world will She create today?
How many threads have been given?
She carefully stitches these threads together…
Making your heartbeat the same as mine.

And then I see the new pattern…

Now, I must become a listener…
Short whistle, long whistle I understand them all…
I hear the wind bidding me to follow…
And with a quick wag of my tail, I am off!

Maybe today you are hurting…
She has the skill to erase that ancient patina of dirt…
By creating a brand-new pattern…
Just lay your thread at Her feet.

I love you,

Annie

I agree with silence…
It has many forms that flows through all things…
Perfect in its ways…
And yet still a mystery…

When I am still, I can see that life and death are one…
Darkness is nothing to fear…
And if I look deep enough…
I see that I wear the mark of a King.

I know what you are thinking…
There is no such thing as a silent pup…
Yep, pups too need to recharge…
Our hearts, like yours, are seeking peace.

How about you?

Don’t you need a break from all the clacking horns?
From the mud finger painting that is sometimes your life?
From using so much energy to cover your scars?
From feeling like a shipwreck survivor?

Don’t try to comprehend silence…
Its rules are incomprehensible…
But for me it is like the biggest wedge of apple pie…
Or, like a seed breathing beneath the leaves.

I love you,

Annie

Can I ask you about the spirit inside you?
Is She pretty?
Is She stronger than you?
Does She prefer Kings or beggars?

Are you ever apart from Her?
Or, is She always by your side?
Can you sometimes see Her shadow?
Does She turn your every darkness into light?

Can you see Her walking on the clouds?
Moving from dawn to dawn?
Constantly unlocking prison doors?
Singing songs of freedom?

Does She understand your every wrinkle?
Does She care if you can afford the best labels or not?
Does She often change your background?
With a freshly woven piece of cloth.

Yes, She is pretty.
Yes, She is stronger than you.
Yes, She is always with you.
If you want to see Her clearly…
Look in the mirror.

I love you,

Annie

If you can write or type, tell your story…
You may wonder how to begin…
Use your ears to listen…
And then follow that voice inside you.

Let beauty be your guide…
Look in the mirror and see it’s reflection…
Do you now understand?
You are both the beauty, and the mirror.

Why are you clutching your fists so tightly?
Discarding one page after another…
Warbling about…
It is time to let the master teach you how to weave.

She is leaning over the earth watching you…
Needle and thread in hand…
Whispering in your ear…
“Come closer, I’ve got something to show you.”

Your story begins here…
A story of miracles, love, and friendships…
A garden forever in bloom…
Flowing like a fountain.

Now with pen or keyboard, write yourself into being

I love you,

Annie

Cats seem to have a very fun life…
Mid-night raids on dog’s dishes…
Prowling and attacking anything…
Connoisseurs of comfort.

Squelching a grin…
Lollying like a turtle on its back…
A big ball of fur like plush…
With souls enchanted or demonic (I am not sure which.)

Maybe you can answer this?
Why are all the wild males called Tom?
Am I the first one to notice this peculiarity?
But they seem to know this too…
Because I tried to call one Jack and he looked at me funny and then wandered away.

I’m not sure if there is any content in a cat, just movement…
I wonder if there is a little pup inside them…
Wrinkled up like a tissue…
Knocking with heart-stopping knocks…
Let me out of here!

But you can’t talk to a cat…
They understand, but don’t listen…
They will look and take considerable time before walking away…
Come on, who does that?

I’m so happy my butler prefers pups!

I love you,

Annie

What color costume would you like to wear today?
Perhaps a festive yellow…
Or maybe a darker green…
Oh, you want to blend them together into a rich warm brown.

What will you be?
Ok, that’s a good one, a saint spending the day giving to others in need…
With love sewn invisibly into the weave of the cloth…
And a mask that will ease the kinks from your past.

In that case your costume needs to be delicate and have a watercolor wash…
With white trim as pure as a snowflake…
With yellows in curious circles…
And yes, you need a song, a freedom song.

Now you look absolutely brilliant!
As happy as a bee gathering nectar…
Someone who is ready to give comfort…
Ready to explain the mysteries of the universe.

I have a question?
Why do you need a costume?
You are already all these things…
Can’t you see?

I love you,

Annie

Of course I pray!
But I pray differently than humans…
In my prayers I do not ask for anything…
I simply let myself expand into the heavens.

I meet others inside that invisible Temple…
As their prayers rise to meet mine…
Everything is a buzz with colors…
Rising from the bars of black and white.

The leaves of my life begin to unfold…
As my heart moves from winter to spring…
I leave below those angry emotional scars…
As I am lifted by the songs of the mountains and seas.

If I hear their music, I follow it…
Flying with borrowed wings…
This is why I do not covet what other pups have…
Because their prayers are so like mine.

I still cannot get over the astonishment…
I am changed from head to toe…
Tears of joy, tears of happiness…
All from a simple prayer…

And that dear friends, is why I always carry a Kleenex.

I love you,

Annie