The Monkey and the Moonlight Cats

In a jungle near the tangerine trees,

Where whispers ride on cinnamon breeze,

Lived a monkey named Jolo, bold and spry,

Who dreamed of climbing up to the sky.

One dusk, while dancing on banyan leaves,

He heard a purr beneath the eaves.

A trio of cats in velvet fur—

Silver, soot, and one like myrrh.

"What's your name?" he asked with glee.

"We're the Moonlight Cats," purred all three.

"We tiptoe dreams and twist the air,

With paws as soft as midnight prayer."

Monkey grinned, his tail a spring,

“Then show me how you cats do wing—

I’ve leapt through clouds and swung through time,

But never made the stars align.”

The silver one leapt on a vine,

“Swing like this, and hum in rhyme.”

The soot cat spun on moss below,

“Balance is the secret flow.”

The myrrh-cat whispered from a nest,

“Rest your mind and leap your best.”

Jolo nodded, took their lore,

Then soared through leaves and something more.

He didn’t reach the stars that night—

But in his chest, a new delight:

The joy of paws and playful cheer,

Of friends who vanish then reappear.

Now when moonlight paints the ground,

And tree-limbs make no single sound,

Some say they see, just for a sec—

A monkey and cats on a dream-bound trek.