A cat is fast asleep at the foot of my bed,
Her feline body stretched out, taut, like an
Elastic band. She does not move, apart from
The rhythmic rise and fall of her breath,
And occasional twitch of the tail or whiskers…
She is lost somewhere in the lull of dreams,
Deep sleep—who knows what kind of otherworld
She’s running through? Perhaps there could be
Grass beneath her paws, lush green and full
Of the new, the unexplored. Or maybe
She’s chasing after something, a mouse
Or bird or some other animal…Perhaps
She dreams of rest, the way she’s resting now
Before me. I am watching her as sunlight
Pours like honey through the window, igniting
Her fur a blazing orange, with spots of
White and black mixed in just like a mosaic…
But the very thing I notice most about her,
Whether or not she really does dream, is her
Lack of restraint—she isn’t a cat at the foot
Of my bed, not even a cat confined in a house,
But in her sleep she knows how to be
Free—a lesson I must have missed at
Some point in my life…how to be free.
?