Dream with the Cats of the Ancient Village of Mouans-Sartoux

REPORTAGE HAIKU

We claim this place with

paw and tooth, scent and mighty roar-

your walls mean nothing.

Here the dead, not dead,

waiting for the end of time -

united in One.

A child's loving note,

graveside statue of a monk-

sending kisses dad.

Sacrificial art

sent to those beyond the veil-

afterlife color.

I am a hunter,

caged within four static walls-

outside, prey roams free.

The night after I visited Mouans-Sartoux I had a dream that I was watching a cat on a high wall. It jumped off into the air and started flapping its bent forelegs to either side of its body as if it expected to fly. It looked ridiculous, like a chicken with no feathers, desperately flapping away. But it didn't fall. The cat slowly gained confidence until it was flapping like a hummingbird, zooming around in circles. Then it stopped and hovered in place, looking right at me. Its face was no longer that of a cat but now a snow leopard. It roared, a kind of screeching roar. I mimicked the sound and roared back at it. It roared again and I awoke.

Here green grass, warm sun,

here the thousand smells, the heat—

Spring meditation.