A Day of Blessings for My Beloved
Sweetie Pie
⸻
First Light
For when the sky is just a hint of silver and your old friend stirs in his dreams.
“The night has kept you safe.
Now morning leans close and kisses your whiskers.
Rise slowly, little heart.
There is still sweetness here for you to taste.
There is still love here for you to claim.”
⸻
Morning Sun
When he finds the patch of sunlight on the floor and drifts back to sleep.
“Lie easy in the light, old wanderer.
The sun knows your name,
and the day wraps you in gold.
No fear, no hurry, no ache today—
only warmth,
only rest,
only love.”
⸻
Late Morning
When the house is alive with quiet sounds and he watches with slow, curious eyes.
“Watch, sweet one.
Watch the morning dance its quiet ballet.
You have seen so many days,
and still, you are part of the story.
Still, your paws write poems across the floor.
Still, you are a blessing here.”
⸻
Early Afternoon
For the heavy, luxurious nap hours.
“Sleep again, my heartbeat.
Let your dreams be soft as feathers.
Let your bones forget their weariness.
You have nothing to do today
but be loved,
and breathe,
and dream.”
⸻
Mid-Afternoon
When the light begins to tilt and the day grows a little tired.
“The world slows with you, beloved.
The wind softens, the shadows stretch.
There is no rush, no race, no need.
Every breath you take is a victory.
Every sigh is a song of home.”
⸻
Twilight
When lamps flicker on and dinnertime scents fill the air.
“Come back from your dreams,
hungry one, gentle one.
Come back to the bowl, to the hand,
to the heart that waits for you.
You are still wanted here.
You are still needed here.
You are still everything good.”
⸻
Evening
When the world hushes and settles in.
“Let the night gather around you like velvet.
Let the hush of the house be your cradle.
Old warrior, old darling,
you have done enough for a thousand lifetimes.
Now simply rest
and be adored.”
⸻
Midnight Hour
When the moon keeps her watch and you, too, keep yours.
“Sleep deep, my steadfast one.
The stars keep your secrets.
The night carries your name in silver breath.
You are not alone.
You have never been alone.
And you never will be.”
I hope these short blessings remind you of your pets and how precious they are to us.
Armand, they are meditations! They are mantras to unconditionally love the heart beating in tandem with my own.
When you could have seen me read, you might have watched a whole cascade of emotions play across my face. You would have seen the tears return—first revealed in the slight tightening of my throat, the quiver around my eyes. Then the first glimmer of moisture, until: trick. trick. They began to fall, one after another, and then all at once, a steady stream like a little brook.
These poems are such a beautiful tribute. Yes, each one brought back memories—vivid, aching—of my own beloved cats. Both female.
Molly, my solace in early childhood, was gone one day when I returned from a three-day school trip to the former GDR—Wartburg, where Martin Luther once hid, and the cities of Erfurt and Eisenach. That trip had already been difficult, and to come home and find her gone… it shattered my heart for the first time.
And Becky—truly my beloved Becky—my small little sweetheart. She had been unwell, though she was also 17. She died quietly in her sleep, before we could take her to the vet again.
I feel so deeply with you, dearest Gloria. I hope you'll let little Q bring you some comfort, even though he's still learning—still a bit squeamish at times.
Thank you Gloria