Here’s a poem for while my cat yet lives,
that fiery soul who on my mind engraved:
“Blessèd is the heart that freely gives.”

Votive candles flicker in the dim
corners of the transept–God be praised.
Here’s a poem for while my cat yet lives.

The fading sun creeps from Los Angeles;
disciples, quiet, gather in the nave.
Blessèd is the heart that freely gives.

The crossing, now, with chanted scripture brims
and the bishop in his sanctuary prays.
Here’s a poem for while my cat yet lives.

The churchyard is alive and shakes with hymns
and resurrection takes the place of pain–
Blessèd is the heart that freely gives.

Both they and I tonight think on the grave,
but I… I want, once more, to feel her warmth and weight.
So here’s a poem for while my cat yet lives:
Blessèd be the heart that freely gives.