Fires and cats are hard to tame, and yet
We cannot help but love their easy grace.
We see their beauty but, enchanted by that face,
Forget the pain they give. We make them pets
Then wonder why we burn or why we bleed.
Cats and flames remember what they are–
The efficient killer, the heart of every star–
But let us forget, even deign to fill our needs.
Did we but know ourselves as they must know
The way to make each movement art,
We would see the world in all its parts
Is perfect as it stands, and we could grow.
Because we will not know ourselves, we burn,
And bleed, and cry to know what we refuse to learn.