By Carlo Sosa-Ortiz 

I know the modest language of my cat.
Her eyes, her twirling whiskers, her flinching tail.
Dark evenings, she waits by the door,
rolling at each greeting, paws up, waving me in.
Her body dances. Her purr an old Ford motor,
a pulsing power line.

Love speaks in simple gestures.
No need for superfluous prattle,
words of promise or prestige.
Her familiar chorus sings to me,
but only on her time.

Carlo Sosa-Ortiz is Associate Pastor for Christian Education at First Central Presbyterian Church