THE QUIET PLEA OF THE SMALL

 

There are online videos of cats, dogs, mice and animals which are sweet, and dear to watch. There is joy in watching an animal doing a "happy, happy" walk, or a bird placing wings around a loved human with deep affection.

Yet sometimes a click of the computer mouse shows a scene with an animal wailing, or with traumatised face, or mouse or moth being chased in fear of life. These are sad things. 

God places us on earth to protect, not torture little ones as clickbait. 

Situations are funny until they cause heartache, distress or fear to another.

Then they just are cruel.

The quiet plea of the small

A small screen glows in the quiet night,
A thousand lives flicker in borrowed light;
Soft paws dancing, bright eyes at play,
A kitten tumbling in threads of day.

A dog runs free through fields of green,
Joy unmeasured, pure, serene;
A mouse peeks out with trembling nose,
In simple trust that gently grows.

And oh, how good, how right it feels
When laughter lifts and kindness heals;
For in such moments, light is shown
Of love the Maker calls His own.

For God who shaped both fur and feather,
Wove fragile lives in care together;
And placed us here, with mind and hand,
As gentle stewards of the land.

But then the tone begins to change;
A darker note, a crueler range.
A trembling cry, a frantic flight,
A tiny creature gripped by fright.

A chase made sport, a fear made show,
A helpless heart with nowhere to go;
The clicks increase, the laughter grows;
But something deeper in us knows.

For what is mirth that feeds on pain?
What jest is worth another’s strain?
When terror is the price we pay,
The light of joy has slipped away.

The wailing cry, the panicked eyes,
Are not a joke, nor small disguise;
They speak a truth both sharp and clear:
That cruelty dressed as fun is fear.

Would we make sport of trembling souls?
Turn sacred life to passing roles?
Or hear within each fragile plea
A call to guard, not injury?

For even least and voiceless things
Are held beneath the King of kings;
And every life, however small,
Is known, is seen, is loved in all.

So let our laughter still be bright,
But born of kindness, born of light.
Let joy be clean, and hearts be wise,
With mercy shining through our eyes.

For we were never made to harm,
But to protect with open arm;
And every creature, great or small,
Is not our plaything - but our call.

Image courtesy of ChatGPT with CN Whittle, "Cozy night with a cat companion"