Jesus' Wolf Pack

Upon completing
the circle and re♱crossing ♱
the road, Jesus mushed over
the Arctic ice in a dog sled racing
Heaven's Iditarod to his wolf pack,

the more things
that change, the more
things that stay the same,
what's in a religious name,

cool morning, temperature
20 below, hat, coat, goggles,
gloves, lead dog follows the
mourning doves,

Jesus rested in a
parishioner's barn,
soup and hot apple cider,
ministry's warming center,

Jesuit ministry travel
in the bush, you'll reach more
loyal souls than preaching every
Sunday for the rest
of your life,

the object is clearly
to move the wolf pack to
a rescue mission where
a pastor of the Mennonites
shakes his lot cup and his dice
skid across the ice, a six shows,
Jesus sent a big buck with a six point
rack, a five brought in the four plus one
caribou on Isle Royale,

the ravens tracked the wolves
for Jesus in good wolf-raven relations
having reached an adjustment in their
relations centuries ago, social attachment
intact, upon examination of wolf scat, not a
single bit of raven remains,

predation upon man, religion
establishes itself as glorified folklore
with the usual exaggeration,

Jesus' wolf pack
overrides politics, those
vile antiwolf informants are a
cowardly assemblage of wanton
slayers, they cannot be changed, they're
outnumbered, ergo, they must
be outshouted!

© Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist