in the midst of thinking, is this the end of me, trying not to be dour about it all, not be afraid, this mystery whispered to me, said, remember happiness.
can I make room on the bench for this companion.
Maneki Neko – Japanese Lucky Cat. Kind of in thought, the notion why obtain more “stuff” if I’m not going to be around. Not a bad notion in general anyway, however I had considerable energy on NOT adding more stuff. But looking at this whimsical creature, it became a statement for me,
I am here and there’s still room in my life for a Lucky Cat.
I know it can be hard (for many of us) when life seems an endurance test.
Sometimes “letting go” seems a reasonable choice. I understand. I do.
However, this existence is full with wonder of all sorts. Every moment, every thing, every person – precious, and I want to stay. Discomfort is less than the beauty of being here. I want this life given me. I remain as I may.
That’s what a lucky cat means to me. Lucky me.
As Kurt Vonnegut declared, Lucky Mud.
In Japanese culture (not Western) the upright paw indicates a beckoning gesture (not to be mistaken for a wave as Western eyes might see). The original white color is to get good luck and overall good fortune, while black is to ward off evil, red is for good health, yellow or gold is for wealth, and pink is for romance.
Maneki Neko will enlarge to a rather lovely big size if you so ask of it.
the pursuit of happiness
packing for mars seems the perfect thing to do,
more than over the moon, a fortnight at least away,
a perfect disunity letting the garden go to seed
turn your back and everything goes to rain,
falling deeds, erosion’s hoe, blankets scattering
soft sleep on a hard carpet floor
the preface, it fills one person’s looks,
meaning not what but how they see, you see?
riverbed pebbles being merely consequential history
we eat the world, a long long thread of it,
no body an island, yet water all around is the root,
real truth just as sprouting from an open palm
a hand sewn meal rising and tucking back
inside water’s shoreline face, constellations
we name as memories dot for dash
so we’ll lay in sweet socks and brimming full
only those delicate memories of no consequence,
just ripe for unknown harvesting arms
a bottle of breath, a loaf of shoes, a comb for
remembrance, an empty bowl for sleep, two hats
for heading east, pen and paper, words to map
come to my bedside at the end of all things
and I’ll tell you, unashamed, how it was to drink
and pass the cup, lips to lips, satisfied
leave the window open for me, please
2010
wordswerepoemsfirst.com 
First, I have a lucky cat on my desk and its paw is currently moving up and down. I won it a carnival and it’s cheap plastic, but I love it. It reminds me of luck and now it will also remind me of you.
Second, your poem from 2010 is breathtaking. So many great lines, but it’s the final line that got me. Wow.
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Oh Bridgette. This is like swimming, like floating for me – all this generous attention and care. Please consider my face smiling into yours.
Don’t like much to complain about much, but yea, got a couple health issues, pretty real sort of stuff. Many’s the day I think, how much longer. Doctors say, considering, I’m doing well. But me, here, in this body – lots of time I’m not so sure. I understand balancing on the edge of a blade. SO THIS POST, THIS HAPPY CAT is me saying to myself, not yet, I’m not done yet and this is my affirmation.
Thank you for reading me. You feel like a friend.
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