Some nights I have some catnip with the cats.

Creative Strategy #02: Chill

Some nights I have some catnip with the cats.

We hang on the deck

listening to the fountain.

They look quiet

but their eyes glisten.

Like me

they have galaxies of star stuff

swirling in their minds.

They dream of grand hunts,

narrow escapes,

foes vanquished,

birds unskied.

You would never guess

how similar we are.

Predators at rest.

However indolent

we never stop watching.

I sit and smoke,

belch and fart.

We abide together.

An old man on his deck

watching the night sky.

And these great beautiful cats

watching the birds head south.

From the outside

we appear to be

creatures in a cage.

Bored, snoozy and tame.

But inside we perform

death-defying leaps

of consciousness

stunning Cirque Du Soleil

feats of logic

that cleave our foes heads off

the way our lawn service

mow the white dandelions

like so many wannabe Einsteins.

Look up

no matter how still & far away

our ancestors the stars seem

we know they teem with light

& we all are circling in the great dance

containing our multitudes of dust

drifting like clouds of cataract

in an old stoned man’s eyes.

—Patrick O’Leary