In honor of my two cats
"Baby" was my best friend for 19 yrs
"Babydoll" my new soulmate,
is now 2 yrs old
When God created kitty cats,
He had no recipe;
He knew He wanted something sweet,
As sweet as sweet could be.
He started out with sugar,
Adding just a trace of spice;
Then stirred in drops of morning dew,
To keep them fresh and nice.
He thought cats should be soft to pet,
Thus He gave them coats of fur;
So they could show they were content,
He taught them how to purr.
He made for them long tails to wave,
While strutting down the walk;
Then trained them in meow-ology,
So they could do cat-talk.
He made them into acrobats,
And gave them grace and poise;
Their wide-eyed curiosity,
He took from little boys.
He put whiskers on their faces,
Gave them tiny ears for caps;
Then shaped their little bodies,
To snugly fit on laps.
He gave them eyes as big as saucers,
To look into man's soul;
Then set a tolerance for mankind,
As their purpose and their goal.
Benevolent ... and ... generous,
He made so many of them;
Then charged, with Fatherly Concern,
The human race to love them.
When one jumped up upon His lap,
God gently stroked its head;
The cat gave Him a kitty kiss,
"What wondrous love," God said.
God smiled at His accomplishment,
So pleased with His creation;
And said, with pride, as He sat back,
"At last. . .I've reached purr-fection!"
"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life
....... music and cats." ~Albert Schweitzer~
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear:
just as a raving madman,
when nothing else can ease him,
charges into his dark night
howling, pounds on the padded wall,
and feels the rage being taken in and pacified.
She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen
into her, so that, like an audience,
she can look them over, menacing and sullen,
and curl to sleep with them.
But all at once as if awakened,
she turns her face to yours;
and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny,
inside the golden amber of her eyeballs
suspended, like a prehistoric fly.
~Rainer Marie Rilke~
© Tina's Prayer Gate
March 16, 2013