On a 4/4 beat of feet, the furry folk arrive,
Leaving paw prints all across our days,
Strewing naps across our sunshine places.
As faithful as a shadow,
These offspring of Chaos and Delight,
Weave themselves into the warp and weft of every day,
Born knowing when to lead,
When to follow,
And when to walk beside.
Oh, how they grace us with their presence!
As agile as a smile, as lithe as laughter,
They pitter-pat along the pathways of our hearts,
And what a wounded emptiness they leave behind
When it is time for them to go.
But...
Sure as spring comes after winter,
When at last it comes our time to go,
We will find them waiting for us
Just inside the Gate,
Whole ardent for the next adventure,
For it would not be Heaven otherwise.
Wol's River of Stones 