I’ve got a sense about me

A fly’s a-buzzin’ around

Like peanut butter and wheat toast

The notion is warm and right

It’s a net filled with providence

Handed down by the God

Bridging the moment

Empty mind before

And knowing knower then

It’s a tap on the shoulder

The glance away

The returned gaze

And the big-bowed box

Sitting neatly on the desk

And you think

Who?

What?

How?

Oh, what a gift

That new fresh bit

What a gift