Dr. Padmashree R P Poet Ode

Ode to Meowlu

You arrived the way breath arrives
without announcement, 
without asking, 
and made yourself essential.

White as the silence between lockdowns, 
you crossed the threshold the way light crosses a room: 
not invited, 
not refused, simply, completely present.

Cloud-pawed, pink-nosed sovereign, 
you chose Chaky's lap the way a river chooses its course, 
not by permission but by the quiet insistence of gravity, 
of going where the warmth was.

You sat in the window's crosshatched light 
and watched the world contract to our four walls as if you had foreseen it,
as if a small white planet had already mapped this orbit, 
had always known this was the house it would fall into and call home.

Between lockdown and lockdown, 
you were the open door.

Meowlu: small declaration, 
the way a candle declares itself not by shouting but by burning 
I live here. 
I matter. 
I stayed.

And so, 
because of you, 
because even the smallest warmth holds something larger in its light,
so did Chaky.

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