In The Balance
The worldly cat creeps
along the mossy wall
below the bird-feeder.
Danger lurks in every
shadowy corner where
life has opened eyes.
A bird alights in want
of seed then drops
below for the fallen.
As the lunge begins
the bird flies up; only
to be snagged mid-air.
Sharp claws, a bite, a few
hind kicks and strewn
feathers leaves no struggle.
The cat is being the cat
doing what it has been
designed, created to do.
She leaves the blue bird
I’d loved at the door stoop
where she’d laid
the little grey mouse
the day before
as a token, a gift of love
The world is fierce,
and the heart is divine;
life is the balance.
© RH Peat 12/28/2011 12:05pm
form: 9 tercets/ 27 lines.
The cats and the claws designed on the wheel of the master sculptor centred on the keel of life . Rotations happen because the hands of time keep it balanced..