The tiniest of little black kittens
Would fall asleep while kneading the palm of my hand.
Soft paws, paddling back and forth,
Purrs so petite you had to strain to hear.
Once a pocket panther
Able to be tucked into any apron,
Now a household puddle of puma,
Spilling over every lap He leaps on,
Kneading the palm of my hand as He falls asleep.
We all grow, but we never grow out of our need for Love.