When children spin the Dreidel like a top, Does chance and spirit blend like a heartthrob? A daft squirrel bounces a nut on a branch; Instinctively prays for no avalanche. My cat chasing a ball “creates” much joy. How would he do, with a four-sided toy? Turning her eggs over [talons] to glance — Mother Bird playing Nature’s game of chance. White seagulls cruise the parking lots for food; Catching wind-swept crumbs hones an impish mood.
Rain’s newly form mind is in its puddle, A mirror to Life and all its muddle. Frantic feathered fledglings flapping their wings, Hoping to fly or to learn how to sing[s]. The cat crouched in the window chattering, At the birds in the bushes nattering. Ancestors are mirrored in a child’s face. Can you see me, if you frequent my place? Journaling my dreams I think I learn “me“, Preferring, though, the puddle, rain’s calm sea.