Tranquility<\/p>\n
In the kitchen before dawn,
\nthe cat sings a song
\nthat sounds more like squealing tires
\nthan a plea for beauty, a screeching
\nsoliloquy even my youngest cat
\nhas learned to ignore.
\nNo matter how busy I am,
\ndashing across the wild
\nand fertile fields of my day,
\nsomething deep within me simply
\nflows\u2014my spirit, I suppose,
\nfloating on its back, humming
\na little, as relaxed as a cat
\nsimmering in a sunny window.
\nHow comforting to know
\nthere is a part of me that remains
\nunmoved and cannot be scratched
\nby the friction skittering
\nthrough this world.
\nDarkness before daybreak,
\nthe frost spinning lawns and cars
\nin its white loom, and my cat
\ncombing the air with her cries,
\nwhile a part of me hovers
\nin its changeless state\u2014
\nthe weight of glory,
\nthe immutability of light.<\/p>\n
–Laura Stamps<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tranquility In the kitchen before dawn, the cat sings a song that sounds more like squealing tires than a plea for beauty, a screeching soliloquy even my youngest cat has learned to ignore. No matter how busy I am, dashing … Continue reading