I was watching Devi this morning as he sat meowing in the window. Long ago I had created a little song about his window cries.
Sitting in the window
Crying cuz he can’t bite the critters in the head.
Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow …
(Sung to the tune of Lil’ Bunny-fufu)
He is crying out because the screen inhibits his predator nature. He can literally taste the blood in his mouth when he sees the birds and the hated squirrels bounding about freely in the world outside … while he is trapped in the domestic civility of my home. His teeth tremble as he cries and moves in a biting motion with each utterance. Devi has never tasted real prey. But his instinct tells him that they are pretty darn tasty nonetheless.
I sit looking out that window as well. I feel no call erupting from within at the sights and sounds outside. But pen and paper, and the ever present laptop causes a sensation within me which is very much like my budding familiar’s cry. No one is blocking my access, there is no screen separating me from my prey.
But I sit nonetheless feeling impotent and empty. I am a warrior mystic and one of my precious fangs/tools is critical inquiry. And yet, I hesitate.
My prey like the hated squirrels comes very close and bangs on the separation taunting me at my self made restraint.
My healer once advised me to embrace my predator within, to allow her to openly prowl and hunt. And yet, I hesitate.
I can feel that bloody taste, and the howling is pushing itself up from within my inner darkness. As I stare into the eyes of this small deadly blood-seeking predator at my feet, I feel such kinship within his cry.
I reach for the barrier with claw and fang and hunger … I emerge ready for the thrill of the hunt once again …