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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
March 30, 2015 at 11:51am March 30, 2015 at 11:51am
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Do you believe humans and animals have a spiritual connection that isn’t necessarily dependent on the language? Have you had any incidents of this with the animals in your life?
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I definitely do believe that, because at times, animals have understood my thoughts and feelings, with or without verbal commands. I don’t know from where their understanding comes; is it because their antennae receive input that we are unaware of, kind of like a radio, or is it because they have learned to read our stances or personal expressions and gestures? How they do it is a mystery.
Almost always while growing up, I had cats. Those cats knew if I had a bad day at school or if someone did something nasty to me, and they would try to comfort me more insistently than their usual show of affection. At that time also, my uncle had an Irish Setter who thought I was his best buddy pal. When my uncle and aunt moved away to another city, they said the dog knew when I was going to call on the phone, even before the phone rang, although I called at irregular intervals. He would sit by the phone, bark, and keep pulling whoever was in the house to the phone. Then, when I called, my aunt would put the phone to his ear and I would say a few things to him. After the phone call, they said, he would act all excited and happy. This same dog had cried real tears, while putting his paws on my grandfather’s shoes, after the day he had passed away.
After I got married, I didn’t have dogs or cats for a long time because of constant traveling. When our children were a little older, about seven and four, we adopted a Newfoundland, who became the love of our lives. This dog understood language. No kidding! I can’t tell if, at times, he sensed everything through language or through spirit. He knew our kids’ names. When I told him to go call them from their friends’ house from across the street, he would. He would let me know if someone or a car was coming up the driveway, even if I would be at the far end of the house and hadn't heard a thing.
After our Newfoundland passed away after a very long life, we didn’t get any other animals, as I had developed a serious case of allergies and the kids had grown up and left home. Soon, we moved, too.
Now, where we live, sometimes, a family of Sandhill cranes come to the porch door and knock at it with their beaks. I go out and feed them. They stay at an arm’s length and are not afraid of me. If my husband goes instead of me, they fly away.
So true is this quote by Anatole France! "Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened."
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