I Have Returned...

I have been slightly absent from my blog as of late. Was taking a little time to start a photo blog on Tumblr. It appears to be a great venue for the posting of pictures, but I started to feel old. Rather quickly, too. You follow people and are followed much like you are here in the world of Blogger. The difference? As far as I can tell the large majority of Tumblr-ers are young. Well, younger than me, anyway. A lot of young girls/gals smitten with teen idols long past and present. I'm not in the market for participation in an online version of interactive Tiger Beat Magazine, so my time on Tumblr is looking like it will be short lived. Oh well. I have my blog here. I'm very glad to be redirecting my time and energy back here where it belongs.
There is no particular reason for this post other than to say I am still around. I have a couple of posts brewing so more is to come.
The poem below has no other purpose than to share a piece by my favorite poet, Pablo Neruda. The majority of his work is really romantic. Steamy even. If you ever have need of a poem to give your love, his work will definitely fill your needs. This particular poem, "Cat's Dream", is not necessarily romantic, but it is a favorite of mine.
Enjoy.

Cat's Dream

by Pablo Neruda

How neatly a cat sleeps,

sleeps with its paws and its posture,

sleeps with its wicked claws,

and with its unfeeling blood,

sleeps with all the rings--

a series of burnt circles--

which have formed the odd geology

of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,

with all the fur of time,

with a tongue rough as flint,

with the dry sex of fire;

and after speaking to no one,

stretch myself over the world,

over roofs and landscapes,

with a passionate desire

to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep

would undulate, how the night

flowed through it like dark water;

and at times, it was going to fall

or possibly plunge into

the bare deserted snowdrifts.

Sometimes it grew so much in sleep

like a tiger's great-grandfather,

and would leap in the darkness over

rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,

with episcopal ceremony

and your stone-carved moustache.

Take care of all our dreams;

control the obscurity

of our slumbering prowess

with your relentless heart

and the great ruff of your tail.