I've half a mind to play the squirrel
and run amok in the sunshine today!
I feel like scampering and gathering,
but since I have only the half deck,
what I'd be gathering could be wool.
An inconsequential breeze ruffles the leaves
while some red and yellow flyers take off.
To know that this may be the last warm day
of the year provides poignancy and repose,
which is why I tire of being merely human.
I seek divine laughter in the rustling leaves
without any care for antic augury.
This sacramental day, work should be minimal—
it shouldn't be taken too seriously!
To loaf is godly and not blasphemy!
Great minds can only think while doodling
about the unknown: that element of play
predisposes the spirit to expand
to the cloud-laden stratosphere where
imaginary squirrels climb and play.