Mouse
It’s hard to be a field mouse,
So tiny in this world,
Dodging giant raindrops;
When from the sky they’re hurled.
No one really sees you
When you pass nest or hive,
Except the hungry grey hawk
When he swoops down to dive.
It’s fine to be field mouse;
There’s lots of food to eat.
Seeds and grain a-plenty
And wild fruit so sweet.
Flowers full of colors
And daily sunset hues,
Enjoying life so simple
In any way you choose
It’s great to be a field mouse
Who’s always having fun,
Climbing up the grasses
And playing in the sun;
Watched by the Creator
Who all your needs will grant.
Gentle sleep will find you
In petals of a plant.
– Karen Guthrie
