Werefox Vaquero--on four paws

   
   "Werefox Vaquero--on four paws"
   
  The stars spangled in the Heavens, gifting even the night an eternal sparkle of light, and the desert floor was cool and shaking off the dry heat.  Ela as the kit fox, ears hearing beyond normality, and a sniffer designed to smell and sense the danger.  Yet Ela just pranced and played, a true fox, never condemning herself, leaving that for the guilty, and they ultimately view their reflection, ashamed--at the end.  Ela didn't see them, so they could not see her.
   She was just a kit fox at times.  Eager to be free and simple.  A gift given by life itself, and a divine justice system taking offense at any soul who thwarts life.  For every child that falls--God is offended.
  Ela found another female kit fox.  A sister of sorts.  They jumped at one another, biting playfully, only with grips of love.  Licking and smelling, the similar nature of their grace, and praise to the Heavens for having another day.  
   The envy of hunters cause their own grief.  The falsehoods spoken to reduce numbers.  To plant wicked seeds of guilt, yet they are the ones who harbor it, despising themselves; thus, labeling others, for they blame the Creator for themselves, not knowing, and they never will, unless . . .
   Ela and her sisterly fox friend laid down on the cool, dusty Earth.  Ears high, and eyes always gauged towards the sublimity of existence.  It was casual.  Nice.  Never utopia.  Yet, a walk in the park, and a thanks for the chance at life, knowing Space Rangers guard the innocent, in an allegorical sense.  For this planet has never been without guardians.  And if a simple kit fox knows, we too can learn from such simplistic dogs, loving to play, and loving to dance on paw pads armed with spirited spring, propelling us towards magnanimous dreams.