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.
