languages are like cats

Uma posted an Amichai poem (more bitter than sweet, on the whole) last week, in bleak commemoration. But this fragment caught my eye, and made something inside dance:

Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west,
Latin writing, from west to east.
Languages are like cats:
You must not stroke their hair the wrong way.

In me, they inspire the same hopeful impracticality as do strays: I'm always wanting to adopt more than I can handle. So now the paperwork's all been signed, and in May I will begin night classes in Arabic at NYU, courtesy of my employer's generous tuition reimbursement policy. I am thrumming with excitement: how good it will be, again, to start learning something new.