On my journey.
A tabby cat.
Stops.
And looks in my direction.
Oozing liquid grace.

He stares at me.
And I stare back.
He looked away.
But I did not.

Hush now.
A movement has caught his eye.
No, nothing can escape that vision of his.
Creeping softly, stealthily, he sneaks up
Upon his unsuspecting victim.

He pounces, he misses
The chase is on!
He hisses and scratches,
And yet…
His grace is astounding.
Together,
Both predator and prey
Are locked in combat,
Embracing each other in that fatal dance
That dates back to eternity.

Within the space of a heartbeat it is over.
And the feline stands defeated.
Proud and strong, hard and composed.
Oozing liquid grace.

I stare at him
And he stares back.
I look away.
But he does not.
I walk away.
And he stares on.
That living example of poetry in motion.
He is the ambassador of liquid grace.