Dissonant Halves

Pets are known to have found their way back to their owners after being separated by thousands of miles.

Miles may part them, but the bond always guides the way.

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It looks – all wrong

The smells I knew now gone

The sounds I hear, unclear

In dissonant halves.

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My paws move before I walk

Each path wound, the same;

My nose follows what remains

The distance never long

Or strained.

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My body reads the tales it must,

Weather, folk, terrain;

Rest is taken , in need I trust,

Hunger not a strain –

As the world turns.

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I draw near home, ears erect

The paths I walked now straight;

My pace slows, old smells return,

I make a sudden stop –

The world calms.

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A brief pat,

One that knows –

I sit down by his feet

He scoops the meat

 Hand me a treat 

The life bond’s ebb and flow.

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Original poem by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

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