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Fox against the Gods

When you curse the Gods,

When you scream at the sky asking why,

How could they be so cruel as this?

Remember the fox in the farmyard.

Think of the fox that knows nothing but survive,

Think of all its instinct, all its hunger…

Think of this simple minded thing from a world so different to ours,

And understand:

The fox sees the farmyard, but doesn’t, because how could it understand the curling, hulking, dead structures.

The fox creeps into the coup, and it leaps, and eats, and sings its joy to whatever insane creature had procured a thousand nights of meals for it.

The fox flees the farmer and it’s gun, this angry monster with mad works that defy nature, avoids traps, cruelty like they’ve never seen.

The fox tells their offspring of the wonders of an unknown provider, tells them to howl thanks.

The fox tells their offspring to fear the beast that walks on two legs, tells them it is not predator, but a monster that will steal them with its dangerous hands.

The fox says these things in the same,

breath, never realizing its the same hands that breeds the hens, the same hands that pull the trigger.

The fox will see the monster and ask why, ask how.

But, it will also love that same monster for its gentle works of miracle.

So when you curse the Gods,

When curse inconceivable things,

Remember the fox.

And curse yourself.