I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

19 August 2016

Moon and Cat

The small black cat with white whiskers
always wants to go out into the night
even in daunting cold, like this.

Last night I said yes. It was the first night
of a full moon that fell (if we're being exact)
this morning. (Or, I suppose, rose.) Anyway

we went together into my tiny garden, where, 
over the roof, in the east, the moon appears.
I cast circle. I made ritual. I spoke prayers. 

My cat patrolled the fences, examined extremities,
then sat at the circle’s edge and watched 
with calm interest. She came back inside

when I called her name. I thought she might not.
I thought she might want to stay out there
in the friendly dark, talking to plants and the moon.

But she came, with her usual wariness, bravely
over the dangerous lintel (maybe two centimetres
high from the ground) because I called. I was proud.

Tonight I went elsewhere. This was the second
night of full moon (after the morning moonrise
in between). I celebrated with my sisters –

who danced and sang, honoured the earth,
prayed, meditated, and laughed together.
The moon, at that point, was large and golden.

Then I came home to the small black cat
with the white whiskers. She scampered about
in joy to see me, and begged to go out the back.

So we went again to look at the moon
together, witch and cat. It was high and bright,
smaller and whiter than earlier, in clear, cool air.

My cat – who is named Selene, for the moon –
stalked the perimeters, listened intently
for any suspicious sounds, then came again

to stay near, as I said a few words of thanks
to the earth and the moon, and the garden. 
At last I made a small calling noise. We came in.

I poured red wine. I broke off two pieces
of dark chocolate. Selene ate cat biscuits,
which she likes. She skittered, and tossed her toys.

Then she came and stretched out at my feet,
playing with the leg of the chair. She looked up
into my face. And I looked back at her.



















Written in response to Poets United's Midweek Motif: Cats

9 comments:

  1. o my...this is Sooo terrific, absolutely mesmerizing...

    ReplyDelete
  2. I guess you know that this poem slid right into my heart--the moon ritual, the cat's ritual, the cat and the moon and the mutual look. O, yes, and the call. Oh, my. Perhaps the best blessings come slowly and stay for a long long while.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is so beautiful. I see everything as clearly as if I were right there....lovely cat and witch, honouring the moon. Sigh. Gorgeous! It is so lovely, watching your relationship with Selene grow to such trust and affection.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Gee, you're all so quick! You got here before I changed the comma in the last line to a full stop. LOL. I'm glad you like it so much, and I'll be around to read yours tomorrow. (Nearly midnight here now.)

    ReplyDelete
  5. Whew, what a wonderful poem. Sounds like a lovely night of moon watching for witch and cat!! (We had a beautiful full moon HERE as well!)

    ReplyDelete
  6. The moon is wonderful at the moment...very exciting for a cat and a witch. Great mood and story telling.This poem lends itself to a sweet illustration.

    ReplyDelete
  7. She looked up into my face
    And I looked back at her.

    So much innocence and understanding for both in observing the the moon together! There can never be a better tie-up in companionship, Rosemary!

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  8. Nicely weaved moment. Thank you for this treat

    ReplyDelete
  9. A familiar, a companion, a fellow creature of the night. Nicely penned, Rosemary.

    ReplyDelete