Lapcat

It is such a new development in our two year long relationship, that I cannot bear to turf him off my lap to fetch the laptop I prefer to use for posting my ‘poetry daily.’ (Thank you, Sheri, for helping me see these posts in a differant light.) Felix, the slumbering, formerly feral, feline, is ensconced in my lap. He has heft now. Two years ago he was scrawny and all long leg and attitude. He began as a cat burglar stealing Our Girls’ food.  Gradually, he tamed down, developed trust and learned not to claw the hand that controls the cat food tin. This Tuxedo Tom, as my college roomie styled him, is a handsome devil. How humans and animals bond is one of those wondrous mysteries. Love is always mystical, but all the more when those involved don’t share language. Felix has feline leukemia. He is also smart and has a strong will for surviving and living. He came in from the cold around this time last year. In increments, his defenses at complete domestication have fallen like dominoes.  I gave him a little kiss on the top of his head yesterday and he looked completely abashed, both slightly undone and overcome.  The trust building over years has eventuated in my being pinned down this morning during poetry practice.

I will have to get up presently. There are some children at Glangevlin’s National School expecting me to lead them on a haiku walk. But for now, I think of Basho, the haiku master, who also had a feline hanger on. And though the haiku poet was poor, he still offered love and barley to  that cat at his door.

Lapcat

Defences surrendered

Acknowledging

The tenderness

There is still a wildish

Heart inside you

And me, too. Both

Struggling with loving

And being loved

In return. Two

Souls intertwined across

Species, beyond

Hiss, spit, clawed paw

To purr, headbump, being

Abashed by my

Fleeting kisses

Blessings and being blessed

In soft paw we

Find trust and love.

Copyright Bee Smith 2018

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