Cats

Time is like a cat

Regal
 

Bad tempered
 

Moody like the swing of the summer wind
 

It rips and tears and weeps and shelters
 

And I soar on its drifts
 

Up drafts
 

Down drafts
 

As I draft
 

Poetry inspired by the howling gales

The muse is also like a cat
 

It loves to be stroked and petted
 

Rubbed behind the ears
 

But whether or not
 

It decides you are worthy
 

To touch its head
 

Run your fingers across its fur
 

Whether it grants you
 

A sandpaper lick on your fingers
 

Or curls its tail around your wrist
 

Or, heaven bless you, purrs
 

Is the challenge

And a story is like a kitten
 

Mewing for attention
 

Small
 

Too small
 

Wobbling on tiny paws
 

Not yet having mastered the grace of the Tail
 

Too small to fend for itself
 

So you do
 

You feed it and pet it and care for it
 

And it eats and purrs
 

And suddenly
 

There is a Cat where before you had a Kitten
 

And it looks at you with soulful eyes
 

Flicks its tail
 

Maybe leaves the room when you enter
 

Maybe stays
 

And that's the beautiful thing
 

If it leaves, it will come back
 

If it stays
 

If it comes back
 

It is not because it must
 

It is because it loves you

(Maybe everything is like a cat.

Cats are beautiful.)