I know a cat

I wrote this poem for Steph and Dom's show on Talk Radio last weekend, about a cat who teaches mindfulness. 

I know a cat who teaches mindfulness, charges top whack ,
When all punters do is run their hands down her back.
Listen to her gentle purring, as their monkey brain chatters
As they try to meditate on single pointed matters.

And this cat makes a heap, this cat makes a packet
She doesn’t just have boots she has an ermine lined jacket.
Some call her a guru, some call her a saint
But lacking in funding is something she ain’t;
She eats only Sheba,
Life coaches Justin Bieber.
This cat with the power to still a person’s mind,
Making her clients close their eyes while she robs them blind.

Her customers talk, her customers say
That enlightenment will be theirs’ one day.
They’re ascending through their chakras, they radiate, they glow
They’re all sharing a secret, that only they know
That she is born from an Egyptian line
Part deity, part queen, part feline, 
So perhaps she deserves her cult, her army of growing acolytes
Who stop any hounding from turning into catfights

People press this cat for answers, they beg, they implore
But she just turns her head to the side and licks her front paw
And clients read profundity into the silence that falls, waiting for a sign
But this cat she does nothing, or so you think until her attendant calls time
Because in the quiet, in the calm, with the spittle on her paw still glistening
Watching her, her clients learn patience and deep listening
And this is a gift possessed by all animals who share our homes, who take us on daily walks
Because sometimes we learn more from the silence, than from the one who talks.


Clair Whitefield