Never in Need

Never in Need

(“You, Lord, are my shepherd. I will never be in need.” Psalm 23:1)

The moment I heard you were wandering the zoo
I had to remember wishing I was there,
hot days over the viaduct,
windy days chasing the stroller past the chimpanzees,
snowy days hoping the camels wouldn’t freeze.

Some days I hated to go,
having seen every creature,
eaten zoo-burgers for twice the price,
having turned down the mini-rail tour,
and grumped my way to the penguins;
but for the pint-size
faces that surprised my life…

I took them as many times to pet
the baby goats and sheep.

Now gone, now grown, my own have
the same reasons to hunt the gorilla house
or the lion’s shaded lair.

I rushed our time, in and out,
move it on, child, move it on.
The zebras won’t change their stripes
no matter how long we stay,
and we’ve run out of monkey-food
to feed them anyway.

Move it on, child, move it on
(I had to find a way to hide myself
behind a plexi-mirror, to relax, to stop the shake
that kept me awake all night every time
I knew the zoo was on the agenda.)

I don’t know what my hurry was,
I think I see what my worry was;
though never prey for the untamed inmates,
I feared the others and their strollers who
walked unlocked
with footsteps apace with mine.

Today I would take you with my all-day pass,
fill the water balloons, put on a tiger mask,
and last till late past closing. I would learn to laugh
at the teenager posing as an equine expert,
and change my mask to an ostrich, or peacock,
an orangutan or cockatoo to be sure
you were embarrassed before we left the zoo
this time.