Fox Song

Fox Song

Lily Antonella Price

I’m not a creature made for singing.
God gave me the voice of a fox,
built for crying out, not drawing in—
and so, I write. Scratching
in the dirt with broken claws,
I plead and appeal,
I howl and console myself,
I do it all, not in the least bit graceful like
the songbird in her fair tree.

People love the humble, the little
bird; her way of being inspires me
that God would give her such innate beauty that
the world is simply blessed for her existence.
I look for myself in her shadows.

Gentleness is a grace that comes easy to some
but I have always gotten tangled in the vineyard of myself,
crushing virtues unknowingly beneath my paws.
Forgive my recklessness, Oh Lord
I only wanted to dance,
small and undignified, a life worth living.

I am not a careful creature.
So I tuck the sharp points of my teeth behind my upper lip
knowing I can never trade fangs for wings,
but this miraculous grace is worth pursuing.
Time after time when I fail
and find my vices have snagged the skin
of someone who I never meant to drag between my jaws,
I would rather repent on my knees
than never feel remorse for the sharp edges of myself
that confession alone files down.

An eye turned inwards reveals:
the only death I escape is
that within me. Birds fly away,
but I prowl on – this beautiful life worth living.
In my scratching, I find my words,
“Forgive my recklessness, Oh Lord,
make me gentle.
And if I cannot be gentle, then
make my love reckless too.
This is my entire offering — ”

My prayers lifted up
in silence I waited.
and in the songbird’s voice, He answered:
“Now, you see.
This too, is your song.”

---

Lily Antonella Price
Writer & Poet

Lily is a writer, artist, and curator of beautiful things from Waxahachie, TX. She has previously written for Yale Logos and is currently a NextGen fellow with Christianity Today. You can find updates on her current work through her Substack newsletter, lifenotes.

Photography by Osmany Mederos