Foundation Slightly Apocalyptic

As true as her cat
Cheshire, calico
mad as a shaman
shifting between the planes
prophecies churned in the cauldron
A prism of conscience
teasing the lines of consciousness
by tiptoe and soft paw
in the cold snap of autumn

As true as an owl
alarmed and awakened
by a fox prone to screeching
under full hunter’s moon
oh, we all sense the waves
that are brewing

As true as a bare foot
slamming the pillars of justice
sure, the sting aches for a while