Church Grim

So maybe you're the Laika here
And maybe I'm a church grim
And maybe you'll chase comets
And I'll watch where the worms swim

And I think both of us are dogs, a bit
And you're up in the unknown
And I feel less important, sure,
'Cause I'm still here at home

But here's what I have learned, y'see,
Buried here in place of rest ---
The church grim has sacred duties too:
To keep out demon, ghoul, and pest. 

So track down space-bound souls, okay? 
Send 'em here so they can't roam. 
The graveyard might be where spirits lie,
But a church grim makes a tomb a home. 

Context Below

This poem was written after a conversation with my mom in the car (where else,) about the feelings of inadequacy and stagnation that has been coming from the fact that all of my friends are serving missions or doing what feels like big important stuff in their lives. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I have a duty that I take very seriously: I make the places around me better, either by being a source of optimism or by beating away negative worldviews.

For secondary context, a churchyard grim was a tradition in old England: before any humans were buried at a new graveyard, a dog was buried there first. The dog’s spirit was said to act as the guardian of the graveyard, keeping evil spirits and demons away so that the rest of the buried could rest in true peace. And of course, Laika was the poor dog that the Russians launched into space before sending any humans: very much a church grim, but for a very different graveyard.