Ladder of Divine Ascent 3.5
In going into exile, beware of the demon of wandering and of sensual desire; because exile gives him his opportunity.
I’m a lot like Peter:
Firm in my conviction and my denial
And weeping bitterly about both.
But that’s not the Peter I’m most like.
My spirit animal is Peter Rabbit,
Hippity-hopping down the bunny trail,
Enticed by all the carrot-tops…
I blame it on Farmer McGregor.
If he hadn’t made those carrot-tops-
Not to mention the carrot bottoms-
So delectable, I’d be hopping
Instead of stopping.
I could have stayed home,
No mittens necessary,
And waited for the pie.
But I’m stuck with these hoppy little legs
And this twitchy little nose,
And I want all of the carrots
Because I need such good eyesight
For me to see that beatific vision
Which I must go, to see.
But it is not the carrots
That make me see with new eyes,
It’s the mud that gets in them
When I leave my coat and flee.
But I need the mittens I lost,
For my paws that are dirty-
And not my paws only,
But also my head and cottontail.
Mother brings them to me,
And I am safe and found,
For home is where she is
Until we reach the Father.
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