perfect creatures

every morning at sunrise i hear them
meowing, scratching at my door
i am being summoned

these cats, four intrepid beasts
congregate in the dining room
awaiting the morning ritual
should i tend to the dog first
they race, and pace in between my legs
as the oldest one stands by the water dish
with one paw in it, patiently waiting
she gets served first

these cats they are
poetry in motion
a distraction of the highest order

the younger ones are
curious and unruly
always chasing each other
clever beasts
opening cabinet doors
and lurking
tiny yet fearless
they jump from counters to tables
in gracefull disregard
for the rules of men

the older two are
sitting atop tables and couches
gazing upon me
slightly judgmental
but always compassionate
and most times, i’m nothing but a
glorified cat pillow

ash and scratchy, my two
forbid me to write
they demand my attention
every time i’m at this computer
how can i resist

when i’m sitting at my desk
unable to produce anything worthwhile
they come to rescue me
climbing in my lap
rubbing against my hand and head
purring, lulling me into a soft sense of security
they make it so easy to forget my troubles
what other creature can accomplish this feat
and do it with such ease

soft and silly
sagacious and sacred
they charge my home
with enigmatic energy

these four cats often
make me laugh and feel loved
especially when i need it most
empathetic creatures they are
lifting me up from
the deepest depths of sorrow

cats don’t have owners
they have caretakers
unpaid staff if you will
they are individuals
knowing and seeking no master
fierce and independent
they run the show
anarchic and amazing, they are
set to tread softly in this crazy world
cats are loyal, faithful
they will never betray

they are my salvation



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