A squirrel’s trail

An ordinary squirrel of brown-grey fur
Flecked with silver, gold, and bronze,
And even-stripes of gentle beige,
Carries on its sturdy and fine back,
The shimmering, blooming radiance,
Of sunshine in abundance,
Its onyx eyes glitter with knowing,
And intense clarity,
Urging the viewer to trace its winding path,
In a sporadic blinking show,
Of a tail here, a paw there,
Listening ears, a spot of fur,
A relaxed, bountiful back,
Spurred by reflexes sharp,
As it meanders deftly through a maze,
Of crisscrossing branches and leaves,
And sparse flowers, and fruits of unripe green,
Tenacious its hold on reality,
Its lush bouncy tail swinging behind,
Centering gravity,
Its movement constant and unwavering,
Deceptively random,
Dipping, diving, twisting, shifting,
Fleeing, slipping from the keen gaze,
Its grip sure, steady, sheer,
With its clawed digits five,
Sprawled on the grooved surface,
Seemingly tenuous,
By design so deliberate,  
Before it relents,
Giving in…
To an inner call predestined,
Or mirroring a whimsical impulse,
And decides to emerge,
For a flickering moment,
Thus revealing itself,
Ears, whiskers, middle, tail, feet, and all,
All at once in a single frame,
Granting the tree-gazer,
A wholesome sciurine sight momentous…

Even a few minutes of nature gazing can be such an enchanting, mystical and rewarding experience…both calming and stimulating at once.

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