A She-cat Visits

I awaken

the sleeptime is dark

but I just barely

see her outline.

Isabella has the form

of the panther,

her head sleek and rounded

ears back.

She is there,

but not there,

because panther visits

and lets me know

I am not walking alone.

Panther then moves

slowly toward me.

I feel the feather touch

of the whisker

so softly grazing my skin

it is alive and electric

with power held in form.

The ever-so-slight

touch of her face,

the damp breath

and kiss of a cat’s nose

a hair’s breadth

of blessing

so pure

I feel as if the moon

has just touched me.

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