Something about the coziness of a sleeping cat is sacred
And must not be disturbed.
They get miffed if you have the gall to wake them up,
Because they know the natural order of things.
I can wake a human with cold conscience
But a cat?
Curled into a warm ball,
Melted into my lap,
With an upturned happy little cat smile.
Impossible.
I’ll just have to stay here forever.
Nothing is as important
As letting the cat sleep.
At 5:30 Sunday morning, I awoke to the sound of Satan himself breaking into the bedroom. Kato kitty had seen another cat outside the window, which lent him evil feelings, put a crack in his pure soul, and allowed the devil to possess him.
I’m not sure what exactly I heard but I actually woke up screaming. I’m not an easy girl to scare but oh my god he got me good, and whatever I felt, Don felt it times three. Needless to say, he wasn’t allowed to haunt the bedroom anymore; he was liable to eat any one of us in this state. I got him in the kitty equivalent of a full Nelson put him in the garage until the possession had passed.
What is it about a kitchen.
Warm and cozy
Oven on
Skillet toasting
The smell of butter and onions
Or homemade bread
Or chocolate chip cookies
Puts its arm around your shoulders
And plants a warm kiss on your cheek.
The kitchen chairs are rarely the most comfortable
But it doesn’t matter
Everyone is too happy to care.
Talking, tasting, drinking, joking
Home is where the hostess is.
Happiness is
A hot mug on a cold day
Someone kind to sit with
A comfortable cat on your lap
Happiness is
The ability to make your own choices
His profile when he’s driving
The first bite of a cheeseburger.
Happiness is when things rebalance
Delay and satisfaction
Cold and warm
Hunger and satiation.
Happiness is to be present
Fully aware of reality
And nothing else.
No past, no future, no illusions.
Happiness is wiggling your toes while waiting for the microwave
A furry blanket
The unique way she tells stories
Happiness is feeling safe during the rain
Looking for the most perfect flower in the yard
A story like music
Music like a story
A color that glows
The smell of freshly baked bread
Clean hair after a shower
His fingers intertwined with yours
When the movie theatre darkens
and the score thrums alive.
Happiness chooses a moment
holds it softly in her warm hands
until everything pauses.
Sarah D. Silvey 