There was a cat that lived across the hall.
Though it was a very cute cat
It gave the appearance of having been mistreated.
It seemed to lack consistent nourishment and shelter.

She saw it in the hall one day
And empathized.
But when she reached
To give the cat a loving stroke,
The cat withdrew.

The sight of reaching hands
Struck terror in the cat,
For reaching hands
Had hurt the cat before.

She wanted desperately to show the cat
That she was safe.
That all she'd wanted was
To soothe the cat
And not to hurt it more.
Not to own it;
Simply to love it.
But the cat was gone for now.

Some days went by and then
She saw the cat again.
She reached again, but this time faster,
Hoping to entrap the cat
And forcing it to feel the love
She wanted it to know.

The cat screamed out
And, finally, broke her grasp.
She'd given forced and clumsy strokes
But not the comfort that she'd sought to give.
And so the cat was gone again,
Still terrified of reaching hands.

Days and weeks and months went by
And now and then their paths would cross.
She'd watch the cat and talk to it
In soothing tones.
But soothing tones gave rise
To fears of reaching hands.
But - oh so gradually - it seemed the cat began to doubt
Conditioning:
Perhaps the reaching hands
Were hands of love!
But how to know?

She sees the cat appear
More often now,
As if to test -
As if to tempt -
As if to ponder whether reaching hands
Can soothe instead of hurt.
But, as she watches,
Talking in the soothing tones,
She knows that she can't stroke the cat
Unless it comes to her.
And so she waits.

Now and then she has to leave.
And when she leaves she fears the cat
Will see her leaving as abandonment -
Thus nullifying efforts, patience,
And sincerity.

But she must leave,
Hoping that she'll see the cat again,
And then.....