Seek another world

Cats move between worlds in an instant. They know
the magic to slip between dimensions, or simply
from stealthy hunter to cosseted pet.

That warm bowl in your hands, sister,
is false comfort. There’s little to smile about
in this scrubbed-clean place; all I have to offer,
a cold, rough hand on your back, and these few words,
quick, before we are overhead: You must learn
to walk between worlds, to walk both bold
and sly; to demand distance, power, and affection;
to fight or flee when you fear; to pretend, when it counts,
to love. Having learned, you might slide
through the gaps that appear when shadows flicker in firelight,
and go free to live—if only sometimes—in another world;
to live—at least once, if not nine lives—
in that other world, where comforts are real.