Beckoning

Beckoning

I met you first there in your den
with your beautiful shut-eyed siblings
Tumblng out together
Out!
Fluffed pups
flopped forward
from the upper half...
I called to out to you ... there
from the garden tilled
with Amish certainty.
You came straight to me
fearless one
you strode, straight as a row
to me,
fast as fast could be
and I,
on one knee,
encouraged you to come.
Like an apostle
you followed me
dog following her god
and like Peter
you doubted your steady gait
but one instant
and tripped yourself
into furred flop along furrows of baby carrots.
And then you made it,
all of you, rushing forward
of a joy unspeakable
to my beckoning hands
to my beckoning elderly hands