Ma'at

I once knew a Scorpio
With a cat named Ma’at
Tortoiseshell, green eyed, savage
She would endure my touch for a few seconds
Minutes
Leaning into my caress
Then snap
Defiant
Claws ripping through tender flesh
Before running away
To triumphant solitude.
No other barn cat
Was bigger than her there.

When years later
She returned to my hand
I waited, counting, holding my breath
And then-
The purr that rumbled out
Low and strong
From her chest
Resonated in mine
And gave me hope for the feral.

Malice will come
Roll away, lick your wounds
At the end of the road, Ma’at
When you weigh my heart against your feather
Will you devour it again? Or
Send it on to the rushes?