I had a troubled dream last night
That caused me a lot of angst
It seems I could not do one thing right
I reaped not a word of thanks;
As innocently I trod
One blunder after another
The blame fell on me in torrents
Of fire and storm and thunder;
Mental gaps with no recall
I wandered in painful pause
And gathered the ire of many
Without reason rhyme or cause;
An old man thrown into his past
Without the youth to live it
I was an act of contradictions
On a set with no forgiveness;
Relief came only briefly
As reality cleared my vision
I awoke to the pleas of our dear cat
He was in need of food—
I stumbled thru the darkness
He stopped and waited for me
As my brain searched for mood
And clarity and such;
I stepped on his tail
He sprang with vigor
Then hit the tiles
And slid for miles and miles
Broad siding all of his eating utensils;
He shot upright in youthful pose
Then disappeared from sight
I could not find him after that
As morning cleared the night;
I surveyed the damage
And found no solace
I must have killed my cat
He left to die in solitude
That’s all there was to that;
In tearful bereavement I carried on
I’d lost my place in life
Who was next in line to die
My friends my foes my wife?
The day wore on and I grew weary
My heart sank very deep
And then I knew my punishment was
To face my fate in sleep;
It knew my fears and it cared not
I was its heartless toy
To beat and bash mercilessly
It had no time for joy;
When suddenly I heard a sound
So far away yet near
And snuggled there upon my bed
Where only I could hear
My buddy was yawning serenely
Back in his warm locale
Contented he alone acknowledged me
With a magical…meow.
I would also place this poem in the humorous category for the way that you have artfully described your predicament. But I can see the wonder when the cat in its wisdom forgave your blunder in an act of compassion that is downright spiritual.
And, by the way, did I say that the poem is masterfully written?
Loved this. Cats are amazing, and make good friends. I once had a Middle Eastern cat in my younger years, a desert cat that was most unusual. It would actually talk to me, in cat language of course and would gladly respond to my beckoning. I took the cat back to New York City which was my base in those days where it lived out its years, actually dying when it was just under 25 (human) years old. John
Because we have an opportunity to choose our attitude and focus our intentions in the present moment, the world and our own personal lives are a reflection of our thoughts. It is our 360 degree review on how we think. Put simply, our job is to fully
Intuitively, I know I've lived many lifetimes, and none more interesting than the one I'm living now. However, being born an old soul somehow did not excuse me from the same job I share with you and that is learning to craft a positive attitude about
hug
Kathy
And, by the way, did I say that the poem is masterfully written?
Ron
...and was so happy and relieved there was a happy ending...!
Diana...
With a magical..meow! Two kitties here for there serenity
and antics of loving purrs! Fine writing.
Lady Mary Ann
Love ya!
Jane