A Conversation With A Cat

I sit on sunny window sills and dream of mice and men
And how we’re all the same in many ways
Outside a bird is warbling every song he knows again
That is how he spends his minutes and his days
A squirrel is racing up a tree, he seems to have such fun
While I behind the window pane look on
Not envious or jealous as I sit here in the sun
For come the end of day they’ll all be gone
To where I have no knowledge and in truth I do not care
Tomorrow at the window I’ll be here
To look out at the world so bright, so elegant, so fair
A world so far and yet again so near
A window sill is made for me and all who share my world
For God has made us, each and every one
And I content to sit and watch, so delicately curled
Upon my window sill in golden sun