Monologue

Have you ever seen
a dagger of cold betrayal
hidden inside
a soft cotton quilt?

The lion’s coat glows with beauty.
Yet has the deer’s tooth
ever carried
the cruelty of a serpent?

Why do we turn away—
saying we did not see
what we have seen,
nor hear
what we have heard?

Blackie,

you who wandered far roads
until your tired body
collapsed against my wall—

with what face
do I stand before you now
and ask you to leave?

The rooms we chose to share,
the small table of our living—
they were poor.

Yet did we not trust
each other’s scent?

Just when I had begun
to understand
what happiness was,

with these worn hands of age
I received heaven’s gift
and praised it
with gratitude.

Why then were such gentle beings
sent to me
only to conquer my heart
so easily?

Was it only
to comfort me for a moment—
I who now tremble
in loneliness
while even the last threads
of hope grow dry?

A cold ring of gold
can be slipped from the finger.

But how does one loosen
the fingers
woven together by the heart?

Is a sweetness of heart alone
not enough
to open the sealed door
behind which heaven keeps its answer?

All that is given
and all that is taken away
belongs to You.

Yet leave us our dignity.

And sometimes,
withdraw obedience,

so that even someone stumbling like me
may cross the open plain.

Grant me such a path.

And help me in small things,
so that regret
does not darken my blood.

Above all—

let the cats who leave me
live their lives
knowing only
safety
and joy.

Lead them, I pray,
to someone wiser
and kinder than I,

someone
who will guide them
into peace.

And this I beg of You most—

do not let go
not even for a moment
of Blackie
and the three small kittens.

Hold them always
within Your hands.