Under the ground an old black cat
Is dreaming of sun shine
Curled around his own still heart
That is a seed swelling and reaching
Into a world of roots and song.
The earth purrs and holds him snug
Knowing already everything there is to know
About his soft ways and sharp paws.
Our short time is named by our name
But we are nameless and vast in eternity
Breathless yet breathed through,
Becoming the fabric tides
Kneaded back and proved,
Bread of heaven.
There is a black cat curled and cosy
Under the ground on the first day of snow.
And he will be dancing through the white uplands
Eyes bright and nose twitching,
Sleek and shined and licked perfect
And loved by one and loved by all,
A grace of freedom moving,
A river heart, endless and unforgotten.
—
simonhlilly 