As some of you will know from Christy’s posts, earlier this week we rescued a kitten left on the sidewalk. We named him Seamus. There have been many ups and downs over the past several days and sleep-deprived night, but until we get him to the local SPCA he is resting comfortably.

In his honor, and continuing my recent interest in poetry, I have composed the piece below and included a photo of the li’l fella in his newly preferred bedding. Peace and blessings to y’all.

Seamus, Day Four

You, who squeak, squirm and nestle
in fleecy sheets that fill our laundry basket,
the fabric an echo of a mother’s closeness.

A newborn kitten’s eyes stay closed for two weeks
protected from light and dirt
shielded from expectation.

What would you see
if you saw what I see?

The now abundant garden next door
olives heavy with history
figs bursting their skins.

The imperious parrot on its branch

Coils of barbed wire dissecting the air

Take your time, keep looking within.
We won’t have all the answers
just because our eyes are open.