this morning waking up
seemed to me to be an
impossible task.
but now here i sit
at my desk looking
out of the window
joined by little lavender
who nestles herself atop
my books
tiptoeing through The Divine
Comedy ever so studious
just like mama honey who sits
peeking through the wilted white
roses i refuse to abandon.
together we watch
as darkness clears
and streams of pink
and orange and gold seep
into the sky
like sherbet or watercolor
freshly applied to canvas.
i sip my coffee.
honey lifts her head
over the mug to breathe
the bitter nutty scent
and lavender follows suit–
still learning
how to be a cat
how to be a human
how to be
a living-breathing-entity
with eyes and ears and
thoughts and feelings and
still learning
how to cherish every
moment she is offered
like the sky,
this sky,
which now has faded
colors in a cotton
candy embrace
blue-purple-pink
supported and uplifted
by timid yellow who has yet
to raise her head.
but she will.
and we will be here,
at this desk,
when she does,
waiting.
waiting and demonstrating
how to be.
– s.b.