A LEMMING'S LAMENTATION
Dear God of Love, are you too near?
Causing too much affection
To fill our hearts and body parts
Beyond our circumspection?
We lemmings look like Arctic mice
But win wide admiration
For lions' hearts -- and loving arts
That end in -- procreation.
Alas, we overpopulate,
Then migrate in a dither
And rush along, ten thousand
To move, we know not whither.
While hundreds die along
Our Exodus advances
Until we find some Promised
In which to take our chances.
Be not so near! Great God of Love,
So mating is less chronic,
And lemming life can be enriched
With friendships more platonic.
Thus we may learn to pass the days
In rest and conversation,
And live with more refined delights
And less of mass migration.
from the forthcoming book Prayers of 100 Animals A to Z, by William Cleary