Saving Grace

Am I just in retreat now
from recent sadness?
Running back into childhood
to escape the bitterness
of those who remain?

A panda-colored cat purrs in my lap

We all need hope, God knows,
But I cannot work up a worship
of teddy bears.
Faith born of need seems
No faith.
My convictions turned unconvincing
Long ago.

The cream-and-sable cat curls in my lap,
Leans her head back, looks off,
Touching the air with her paws.

Spirit.
It keeps creeping into my life.

Tonight I saw high priestesses
Swaying and dancing, singing and shouting:
Power, beauty and love flowing from them.
Did I go to them, fall at their feet,
beg them to teach me?

Hell, no.
Thse days, I'm so scared of losing my idols,
As soon as I think I may have found one,
I turn away
So as not to spot the clay feet.

Now the cat plays with me,
Licking my fingers, wrists, elbows and shoulders.
She holds a thumb between her panda paws
and licks it too, looking gravely at me.
I smile and offer her my chin.

She takes me by surprise
and licks my mouth.
Holy communion
With a cat.

But the cat will grow tired of the game, and leave.
I'm weary of waiting for inspiration,
Especially since it never stays.

I wander from this goal to that.
Am I searching
for faith? Hope? Love?

Is there anything or anyone
I can give myself over to completely?
Will I ever be able to dedicate myself without
reservation?
I keep hoping I'm not a fool
for hoping something will come along and stay --
Hoping I won't turn away.

The cat falls asleep on my lap.
She trusts me.
Now I can't move or I'll wake her up.
For all I know, she may stay here all night.

God willing.

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