Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
     Still nothing is as shining as it should be
For you. Under the sink, for example, is an
     uproar of mice – it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
     and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances– but it is the season
     when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
     While the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
     in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
     come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
    that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
As I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.