Love is Speechless
A cat on the still warm asphalt on a summer night. Black, her eyes alone shining from the dark bundle. On the way home, I pause my steps, kneel down, and hold out my flat hand to the animal. She comes two meters toward me, lets herself fall lengthwise in front of me, stretching her paws away from her and herself in the serenity of the moment.
I stretch my hand towards her, gently touching her on the belly, on the neck, and her body seeks my closeness. She rises to her feet, rubbing against my knees, my jacket, my outstretched hand. Like a snake, she glides around me with gentle friction, the side of her nose bumping against my hand again and again; inviting, purring.
What could be more important to do right now, here, than to touch this creature and to be touched by it, I think, as I want to quicken my pace again. I extend my internal timeframe and enjoy, calmly once more, the relaxation and delight of the purring animal.
When I finally stand up, she effortlessly lets herself be taken into my arms, still purring. I give her a farewell kiss on her furry forehead, urging her to stay away from passing cars, and gently set her back on her four paws.
She follows me for another two or three meters, looks back at me for a long moment, and then rambles off on her own path.
No words, hardly a sound, just her purring and my footsteps.
The night, the moon, the warmth, and the love between two creatures that have touched each other for a brief moment in their lives.
It is gentle, it is warm.
Softly, I unlock the front door.