Thursday, May 20, 2010

Soul of an Orange Kitten

After having a day where my soul was wrung through, I went for an evening walk. I heard a hoarse, squawking cry just barely over the roaring of cars on the street.  I looked high, there was nothing.  I looked low, still nothing.  Not until his small, orange ball of of a raggity head poked through the dark blades of grass did I see him.  He was a tiny little thing, that kitten.  Lost & hoarse from crying he looked directly at me with his wide, azure eyes.  Cars continued to roar past, oblivious to his pain and oblivious to my own. I scooped him up, forced him close to my heart. As he began to vibrate from the deep rumbling of his purr, my own heart relaxed and my soul flooded with purpose. We may all be wounded, but we have enough to still tend to others.