The cat stares at me.
Jumping lightly to the floor
I remain in his quizzical gaze. 
Why am I still here?

I’ve become part of his life now.
Ever present, no longer that transient ghost
Flitting in and out of his small, cloistered world.
I never leave. Why is this?

For I’m cloistered here too.
Eating, sleeping, dreaming, occasionally muttering.
Roving for spare moments
To ease the ennui.

Instead of spreadsheets and conference calls
To Do notes and calendar appointments
I’ll get back to you and what’s your ETA
Always worrying I said the wrong thing,

I can now peer across the valley 
At distant houses and farms
At small birds frolicking, bees tunnelling into flowers
The endless clouds with their myriad patterns.

What am I doing here
Dear quizzical cat?
I’m learning from a master.

I’m learning from you.