What Willy apprehends
as he trots toward me
with his prolonged, staccato meow,
is not a past, present and future,
but a steady allness,
an isness that encloses self, me, his brother, my partner Tim,
    the wood floor below, the kitchen counter above,
without division or distinction,
in a blessed, simple, sacred next–
the Unfolding.

What Willy apprehends
as he trots toward me
is Life,
clear, pure Life,
without the fog of time and space and thought.
He gets this.

I, hobbled with mind,
do not.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.