Cully’s First Day at the Bridge
So Cully sat her little self down,
And gazed with golden eyes all ‘round.
Everywhere she looked was a world so sweet,
That her kitty heart skipped a beat.
She saw birds of myriad colors in the sky
And squirrels flicking tails as they passed by.
Exquisite sunlight glistened on her beautiful fur
And she felt the start of a deep, contented purr.
“But, wait,” she said, “There’s something awry!”
She looked this way and that and let out a little cry.
“Where’s my Mama? She should be here!”
Then came Mama’s other kiddens so dear,
Who washed this precious tabby face carefully,
And leaned up against her tenderly.
Cully looked from one to the other
And asked again, “Where is Mother?”
“She’s coming,” in a chorus they replied.
“She’s just on the other side.”
Then it was that Cully saw the bridge of rainbows
Reaching to her Mama’s own special glow.
She saw Mama crying and whisp’ring her name,
And she stretched out a paw to soothe the pain.
Wonder of wonders – Cully pricked up her ears -
Mama looked up and smiled through her tears.
“Mama!” cried Cully, with all the love in her being.
And Mama replied, “My little girl, I hear your singing.
I know this is all new and you want me with you.
I’ll be there someday – I promise this is true.
Mama loves you, sweetie, with all my heart,
And though you might think that we are apart,
I want you to know that our souls are forever one -
Our life together will never be done.”
Cully looked to the other kiddens who nodded wisely.
For they saw the new understanding in her soul,
So she blew Mama a kiss, and then turned to her kidden family,
“I’m ready now. Let’s go.”
©2005 Barbara Allen
I tended your garden today –
It wasn’t the first time, I want you to know that –
But – oh! – it was so hard.
We buried you there, you know,
Up against the fence, under the birdbath,
Just right for birdwatching.
Ah, my sweet, I missed your dear face
Peeking at me through the fence,
Checking to see if I needed you.
Yes, I thought – come back right now!
My heart felt as dry and barren
As the hard-packed earth of deep summer.
So I turned to your corner, where it seemed so dead,
And put my spade to the earth,
To find a tiny flower, brazenly alive.
©2006 Barbara E. Allen
Barbara E. Allen