Tag Archives: cats

doors / poem 47

“I’m tired of opening that door for you . . . for nothing!” I muttered to the cat. Medusa sometimes acts as if she’d like to go into the basement but usually declines once I open that door for her (you know how haughty queen cats can get). Then I paused, reflecting on what I’d just heard myself say. I imagined God/dess saying the same thing.

Understand – I don’t usually walk around wondering what God/dess would say (WWGS). Although I am deeply spiritual, I don’t belong to any particular church, temple, or synagogue. I practiced Zen meditation for years and they are notorious for the “don’t know” mind and koans. For several years now I have been enthralled with Siddha Yoga. This practice comes from the Hindu tradition. And although I made a pilgrimage to Varanasi, India, holy town of Shiva, one can’t ‘convert’ to Hinduism. I can, however, appreciate and adopt many of its traditions. I believe we ourselves are divine but often forget it. So much for talking to Myself!

So back to this concept of doors. I have been fascinated with doors since the 70s when I read the book and saw the movie Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. I’ve even had dreams about doors. There is, of course, that old saying “When one door closes another one opens” which I’ve quoted to myself when times got rough. But this assertion I proclaimed to the cat queen was different. I imagined God/dess shaking Her head, muttering something like “How many signs do I have to give the girl before she gets it?!” The Higher Power might even complain “Do I have to drop a key in your blessed lap?!”

Such is the context for tonight’s poem:

if You give me a sign
I might remember
that I’m truly divine


reflections & poem 46

It happened for the second time: I missed a day writing a poem a day. I woke up on my couch, a cat on one side, a dog on the other. Went to bed. So two today.

What to write? The Global Audio Satsang for Baba’s Birthday yesterday? How nine of us celebrated with glorious chanting? How I experienced a great meditation? What does a great meditation consist of anyway? For me, the voices are quieted at least for a little time. I relax and float into Oneness. After all, I was internally chanting OM, the primordial sound. And what a great amrit afterward! I had worked up a hunger and it was satisfied so delightfully.

Later I mowed. Back yard, the partially wild preserve — I used the push mower. Now when I say push mower, I don’t mean gasoline I mean just manually push. Evidently the blades need sharpened. Still the yard is starting to look as if there’s a plan. I have the stone circle, the bench, the little vegetable garden, the compost bin, the wood pile. I have a winding path carved from dog routes and reinforced with mulch. Now I have some low lying grass instead of high growing weeds. My plan is to have more wildflowers by next spring. The backyard is really my place of refuge.

I also mowed some front and side yard. This is with the John Deere riding mower. The third summer and I am still stymied by this piece of machinery. It took several tries to start it (and it’s automatic!). Finally I thought, OK, when I turn the key I’ll wait five seconds like the manual says. Success! What took me so long? For an automatic, it’s more complicated than you might think. But if I start my car without anguish, surely by the end of this summer the mower and I will come to peace. Once I’m in the rhythm of it, I love seeing the instant feedback of mowed rows and the smell of grass. Yes, I even feel powerful riding that horsepower.

Sitting on the deck. Birds are happy. My dogs and cats are, too. I drink homemade lemonade and lazily watch the world.


homemade lemonade & a beautiful day
is this really all I need
to find contentment?

the bunny lives! & poem #36

I had finished putting the compost bin together. Overheard cursing by the Canadian goose who has adopted the creek, I had completed the task and was shamelessly relaxing on my deck. Suddenly the dogs got excited by an event in the side yard. It could have been anything really. I went to look and saw Jasmine, one of my cats, with something 6-8″ long struggling in her mouth.

A baby bunny! No, I cried and ran out the front door and grabbed the cat, pulling. She let go and the bunny fell, still alive. I locked Jazz in the bathroom to reflect on her evil deed. Got the dogs and other cat in the house, then looked over the fence at the bunny situation.

It was very cute. Panting, probably in shock. I thought I saw a little blood on its neck but didn’t want to examine closer. What could I do? Buy a baby bottle and nurse it back to health? Some more compassionate souls might have done so but I didn’t want to take it on. Besides, I’d seen the mother rabbit run across the street when I first noticed the struggle. I was hoping — so close to Mother’s Day indeed — that she would come back and check on her little one.

I did some things around the house and purposely didn’t look for a bit. Finally, my curiosity compelled me to check. The baby was gone. I was so happy it seemed to have turned out okay. I know the saying ‘survival of the fittest’ but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

animal poem

excitement in the animal kingdom:
one goose, my dogs and cats, two bunnies;
the lone human ponders existence

Imagining a new species: Poem #30

So it’s May 1st and definitely springtime.

The signs are there: people mowing their lawns, filling the garden stores, planting and mulching. It rains in the morning, the sun comes out for a few hours, then it rains once more. There are signs of green everywhere. And the irises are up. But there is one other sign. Bodhi is humping Medusa.

Hmmm. Sounds interesting. Mythological beings? In this case, Bodhi is a 60 pound shepherd-elkhound mix and Medusa (‘dusa for short) is the Queen Cat around the house. She doesn’t seem to mind. This happens every year for a little while then it dies down. What I don’t understand is why Bodhi doesn’t take to Mia, the three year old dog. I mean, she’s the same species! Maybe Bodhi perceives that as too incestuous; my take is that Mia is his little niece. After all, I do sometimes refer to Bodhi as ‘Uncle Bo.’

So it got me thinking, this inter-species attraction. Thus, the context for Poem #30:

dog humping cat
would the offspring be
cog or dat?