True Origin of Awe

I watch my cat looking out the windows at the woods. I have a sense of her awe--fascination with life outside. To the cat it is a pragmattic woods of feeding. So much to watch through her infantile mental wiring, triggers drawing her to the presence of things not really there, dream things, erroneous theories, infantile magic.


My glance at the earth
is made of tools and fears
impressed by variety
and risk.

I still stalk the woods
hungry and frightened
looking for tactics,
but understand with imperfect theories.

I wonder,
wonder full not from the world
but magic
from my infant eyes.