Fear on cat’s feet creeps into the heart
And I become a mouse frozen before its bright golden eyes.
The look is not malicious, though much too intent.
Where will all this end up?
Well, in death of course,
the dustbin of all existence.

The trick is not to exist, and it can be done,
But we find it much too scary.
The cat takes a step closer with each consideration,
Then delicately licks its chops.
What will there be when we don’t exist,
Will it be in a lair, bristling with hair?

The cat’s tail now begins to twitch, this philosophy will be my undoing.
Why not jump to what doesn’t know,
Since those eyes are beginning to glow?
Just forget about the pressures of the time or even of time stopping.
After all, it never really started, nor did what knows that fact.

Shall I become pedantic, oh let’s not ask and see what happens,
While we measure out our life with coffee spoons,
And plagiarize a bit?
And so, about knowing
The cat becomes sleepy now, thinking makes it hungry,
But the unmoving, lulls it to sleep.

Motion is what attracts predators and fear:
A leap of supposition, a tremor of indecision, the slither of suspicion
Perks it ears and slides it into a crouch.
Yes, it’s the moving that gets us.
A thought or emotion springs to mind
And we cower at its speed and threat
But most of all because we have no place to hide.
Where can “this” go when confronted with threatening “that,”
A “that” that will always be the result of Thee?

The cat continues to sleep and What feels it in the heart finds its stillness.
The birds spin sounds that vary, though not what hears them
The sun moves on the faux wood floor
But not what sees it
And the shadows sibilant with fear dissolve into an unmoving acknowledgement.

Mind is now in itself, and all is right with the world.
May it never move from its primordial home,
May the mouse lie with the cat,
May all that moves quickly return to the unmoving,
Now, which is forever, Amen.

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