The 60-Second Sabbath

Cats

  • The Unfolding

    What Willy apprehendsas he trots toward mewith 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… Continue reading

  • My Soul

    My soulis like my cats–soft, gentle, inquisitive, tentative, vulnerable.What it needsis a safe place to venture forth. Is this it? Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.    Continue reading

  • Another Day of Healing

    That day–a busy one, as healing ministries go–a leper, two crippled gals and several menfolk born blind(three at least–some days he lost count). And, when the disciples weren't looking,the mangled wing of a dun-colored bird,the runny, infected eye of a… Continue reading

  • I Want to Be a Cat

    I want to be a cat, and not just any cat, of course: I want to be a cat owned by me. That would be a very good life. Willy plays in the study. As I write, I hear a… Continue reading

  • Willy’s Revenge

    (Note: If you haven't read yesterday's blog, I encourage you to do so now, because this is a sequel.) About a month after Willy's credenza adventure (or my successfully passing the "credenza test"), before heading to the bathroom to get ready… Continue reading

  • The Credenza Incident

    Getting ready for work one morning, I came out of the bedroom to find Willy half under the credenza in the dining area, only his back half visible. I stopped. He lay absolutely still until I said his name: "Willy?"… Continue reading

  • Wrapping Paper

    The cats are exploring wrapping paper discarded on the living room floor. Willy pokes at the crumpled paper with a front paw, tentatively. He crouches, bobs his head, lunges forward, pounces, stops, retreats, repositions. He peers through tears in the… Continue reading

  • Romeo Rests in My Arms

    Romeo rests in my arms, purring, kneading my neck and face, allowing me to rub his chest, his head, his ears, the line of his jaw and mouth. Heaven for him. Heaven for me. He relaxes into the curve of… Continue reading

  • I Watch the Cats

    I watch the cats. They are torn between the possibility of some time of affection with me and the desire for unrestrained play and interaction with each other. They move back and forth between these two possibilities during this early-morning hour… Continue reading