The Kindred of the Eternal

Who cares for them
in the dark night,
when the comfort of the sun
has ebbed,
and lightless cold is what enfolds
their rubbery skin
and shiny heads?

I care for them,
you may rest assured,
in a way beyond your understanding,
for while you sleep and dream,
with quilts pulled high
around your ears,
in anxious thought keenly listening
for the slightest creak or puff
portending the terror
of the unknown, ›

these, my blubbery beloved,
frolic and rejoice
in the salty effluence,
leaping,
hopping,
twisting,
diving,
cavorting in a passion
I freely give to them,
my darlings,
for their comfort and happiness.

This is the time for them
to gather nourishment
for their souls,
relishing, with exuberant ecstasy,
all the tasty, gooey, delightful
morsels
I have set there for their pleasure,
so that I may watch them be happy,
and rejoice with them
in the joy of my beloved.

When the sun comes up,
as my more sentient little ones
begin filling their minds
with anxious thoughts
and fearful planning,

my waddling lambs oft
find some smooth, sandy beach
upon which to flop, and roll,
and laugh,
rubbing with delight
upon the crystally, crunchy expanse,
cuddling up to a loved one
for comfort,

or somestimes preferring
a more solitary repose
where they may apply themselves
to new
and portentous
considerations.