all morning i have been researching phrases i know
but do not understand –
from passages in sacred texts to things my grammy said –
and then,
POUNCE!
so swift is is reality and understanding
that sometimes it is hard to grasp,
and you need real life metaphor!
.
No treachery here, Virgil!
Beware of others interpreting your truth.
.
A snake in the grass may be food for thought –
or it may just be food.
Some days
all languages
seem
fictional.
.
Love doesn’t need words.
there are no small dreams.
only big beds……
.
may your pillow be soft,
and your dreams be sweet,
and may you wake with possibilities
the cherry blossoms have fallen
leaving naked sepal and calyx,
tiny stars in the daylight;
pale pink petals
flutter to the ground.
yet life is still blooming!
pale pink feathers
fluff in the corners of the tree,
as
the cardinals
renew their vows
to nature.
and the sound of fledglings fills the air.
a squirrel ran down a tree
and met the cat who was waiting there.
i was not close enough to hear their conversation,
but i watched them
in wonder,
and listened anyway.
just after telling a friend
how the little black grasshoppers
here
are damaging,
(growing up to be giant multi-colored garden chopping devastators)
i find myself in her shoes
in my yard.
Neither of us are very good at killing
well,
really anything…
although the hiring of hitmen
for certain insect species was within her grasp
(although the killer bore the title of husband).
.
so here i am
standing
surrounded,
as if they had been told of my cowardice –
was it my compassion?
Porpoising?
Pouncing?
what is the purpose?
.
Perhaps we all need a little leap of faith
every now and then.
i saw an old friend today.
He was thinner than i remembered him,
but his eyes still glittered with the gold of a true pirate’s treasure,
and his song was the purr of the sea.
.
i saw an old friend today
in the arms of another friend.
we sat together
on a pink painted bench
and looked out over a sea of possibilities.
.
I saw an old friend today
and dreamed of the future.
in between the raindrops coming down,
kittens are springing up!
my meadow is infested with Joy!
there is a mist over the land,
and the sky is quietly covered with soft gray clouds.
i look into the trap,
and there inside is also a soft gray cloud.
She is small and quiet and young and very scared.
we take a towel and cover the cage,
gently picking it up –
it is placed into my van.
Together we drive to the humane society,
to the caring vets
doing difficult and honorable work.
She is anesthetized.
Her hardly formed kittens are removed along with her uterus.
There are no easy choices.
Later,
the grey clouds are still over head,
but the fog has lifted.
She is waking up.
I open the cage and off She bounds.
me?
i am still trapped.
We have too much of a good thing.
Contemplation alone is not enough –
we must act with compassion
and trust.
Ministry of Animals 