Vanishing Reflections

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.

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