Ancestry
The small kitten
Runs, jumps, leaps.
Then turns her small head
And looks straight into my eyes.
Her features melt, becoming larger,
Orange and black striped.
The tiger crouches.
Pounces...
The kitten has caught a butterfly.
She is proud and
She looks at me --
Straight into my eyes.
Her features melt, becoming larger,
Broad and tawny colored.
The lion devours the antalope,
And then backs away, inviting others to the feast...
The kitten let the butterfly go.
She runs up a tree, flowing and beautiful.
She turns her head,
And looks straight into my eyes.
Her features melt, becoming larger,
Dark black and mysterious.
The panther yawns and gracefully
Leaps to the ground...
The kitten has run down the
Tree, and melts into the shadows.
I am struck with awe for this
Kitten's proud ancestry.
I have always had a deep admiration and love for cats of all shapes and sizes. I wanted to express this, and this poem shows that. I may not be completely correct in the way cats act, but I'm somewhere along there, as I have 3. The sitiuation I describe is somewhat true, as I was inspired for this poem when I was looking at my cat who was sitting on my bed. She seemed tobe looking at me haughtily. I realized that, in a way, she might have a right to do so. I mean, her ancestors were the greatest cats! I had to write something.
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