I hold Arjuna in my lap

pry open her mouth.

She jerks away

and races around the house.


“I will not hurt you,” I plead.

“It is just medicine to make you well

so you can dance in life’s joy.”


So the Beloved whispers to me

each day as that Power pries open

the clenched jaws

of mind’s stolid ways.


After I squirt the antibiotic

in her mouth,

Arjuna, betrayed,

hides in the shadows.


But in the quiet

of my spiritual practice

she returns

curls up in my lap

and remains still as I.


We commune in the quiet

soak in the Love

purr together as One.

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