Seeing The Mother

It was a morning of two parts;
One fledged with the concreteness of appointment, the other, as of sap caught in some rough of bark, though unconcerned entirely, having no destination in mind.
I hurried along in preparation for a day of sacrifice and responsibility;
The children waiting in my mind.

With the bad storm of the night prior came a phone call.
The children were no longer waiting.

The sweet, silly cat from upstairs wandered into our house.
She went to rap her tufted love around my boyfriend’s ankle, mewing for his warm and heavy hand upon her back.

After breakfast a wash of thick, childlike exhaustion became me and I lay down with the cat on the kitchen floor. I began adoring her, loosing myself in her sated eyes. Like glass marbles encasing endless deserts, their drenched enjoyment was my pendulum.

I stroked her dimmed, white fur and noticed for the first time, her teats.
Small and pink and six or so they were,
It occurred to me that she could be a mother.

As I thought this, the way I thought about her changed,
and she watched me don this realization.
She began to wash my hand as she would a kitten, licking and nuzzling, gnawing without harm.

Her spirit came outside her body
into the infinite
where I could see her, beyond the feline.
I know because I felt her safety and her love.
In this time I was encompassed totally by one of the most powerful spells in existence.
The moon rules over the tide and womb alike, in some way or another we are all moved by the swell and break of the maternal wave.

We then fell asleep for a while, there on the floor,
and the children returned to mind.