I wake as a cat.
And stretch out a leg of flexing paw, uncurled claw.
There is no one here to see me rise. Save the sun.
I circle once, twice and settle back. I bask in an easy arc.
Warmth envelopes me. Breathes. Soft. Through fur and sinew.
I turn to face the sun. Semilucent lids immerse.
Time may be all times for now.
A gust breezes in; twitches my nostrils, tickles my chin. Whiskers flick-flicker, half caught in a killing dream.
Scents and vibrations. The air buzzes with abundance.
Roses hang honey-thick, lavenderous delights, sweet decaying leaves, the earthy smell of fish and dragonflies, fungi, youthful weeds. They are all tangled together.
I have them all. A busy dunnock hops beneath a blackbird’s careful eye, a magpie laughs at a pair of barking fools.
And the swaying trees are full of song.
The sun shines everlasting. It washes all over.
I roll and rejoice; pray with my belly to the world. This feels like immortality.